


tomorrow, today

by bloominsummer



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, Emotional Constipation, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Rated mostly for chapter 3, Smoking, mentions of cheating, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-05-16 06:25:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19312465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: “You’re not Jackson,” he acknowledges dumbly.“No, but you are an asshole.”Jaebum winces. “I know.”“You didn’t have the guts to tell me what you need to tell me, so you write it in a song and put it out there for the whole world to hear, but me?” Jinyoung demanded.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this piece is set in the same universe as [sunflower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779940) and focuses mainly on jjp's relationship. i've finished writing it and will probably update weekly :)
> 
> while you're at it, stream [eclipse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6tl-MG38-0E)!!

Mark has vanished once again, leaving Jinyoung to fend for himself by the bar. He curses his best friend for continuously grinding against his boyfriend on the dance floor, as if they can’t do that when they’re alone and not in the club, with Jinyoung, whom _they both invited to come_. _Be our third wheel_! they said. _It will be so much fun Jinyoungie,_ they also said. Jinyoung doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself. It must have been the hundredth time he’s fallen into the two devils’ trap.

And now they’ve left him alone to be bothered by one of his past hook-ups. 

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm actually with someone today.” He searches the crowd for Mark or Jackson, hoping they will appear and rescue him soon. Even if they both come back for water break at the same time, Jinyoung might still be able to play it off as a polyamorous relationship, but there’s no sign of either of them.

“I don't see them anywhere.”

Jinyoung considers jabbing his fingers into this guy’s eyes, maybe then he won’t be able to see him make the run for it. 

“Oh, there you are,” a voice calls right next to his ear, one that belongs to neither Mark nor Jackson.Jinyoung automatically moves to slap the hand that comes to hug his waist away, but then he turns to the person only to be met with a knowing smirk he’s seen way too often.

Jaebeom.

“Hi,” he replies a little breathlessly, playing along.

The taller man presses his nose against Jinyoung’s temple. “And who's this?” he asks, artificially sweet.

“Leaving.” Jinyoung angles his body and wraps his arms around Jaebeom’s neck.

Jaebeom hums in understanding. “Interesting name.” No glances are spared for the other guy, but the dismissal in his tone is loud and clear even with the electronic dance music booming through the club.

Thankfully, the ex hook-up takes his cue and leaves them alone, rolling his eyes in the process. Jinyoung regrets not poking him earlier, that certainly would have been much more fun than this.

“Come here often?” Jaebeom jokes, as if they haven’t been seeing each other every other week for the past three years.

Jinyoung releases his arms as soon as the guy disappears from the corner of his eyes, but just to be safe, he hooks his finger on Jaebeom’s belt loop and pulls him close. 

“Thanks for that.”

Jaebeom doesn’t seem to mind continuing with their little charade as he rests a hand on the hardwood bar top, his forearm touching Jinyoung’s side. “Mark will definitely kill me if I don't look out for his little brother.”

Jinyoung parts his legs. Jaebeom positions one of his own between them easily.

“Jackson-hyung would protect you.”

“You're joking, right?” He snorts. “Jackson-ah will help the love of his life bury my body.”

Jinyoung looks around to check if the guy is hiding behind some pillar to watch the two them, but fails to spot him. “He sucked my dick once and now he thinks he's entitled to the whole package,” he offers to Jaebeom. 

“Don't have to explain,” Jaebeom shakes his head. “To me, most of all.”

It’s a public secret that Jackson is the one in an established long-term relationship, but Jaebeom’s the one doing the sexiling most of the time. They’ve stayed in the same off-campus housing since their first year in college and Jinyoung wonders why Jackson hasn’t moved out to just live with Mark already. He’s already spending most nights—and days—making the place his own, anyway. A rather simple equation, to be frank, since Mark doesn’t even have a roommate to worry about.

Someone taps on Jinyoung’s shoulder twice, breaking his trail of thoughts. He turns around to find the bartender with her hand extended toward him. She’s holding a piece of napkin, offering it to Jinyoung wordlessly. 

_Jaebeommie, call me~~ +043 328 4432_ it reads. Jinyoung looks up at the bartender who simply points to the left in order to let him know which person had sent the note before winking at him, then leaving. He understands the situation a little bit better, then. The bartender must know Jaebeom, it’s a club that their group of friends frequent and the man standing in front of him not exactly one for modesty. She must have thought he’s with Jaebeom tonight and had the decency to alert him of an oncoming opponent.

“Yeah, I wanted to explain,” he offers the napkin to Jaebeom, who looks down at it and smiles. “Sorry if I was interrupting your feeding time.”

Don’t get him wrong, Jinyoung isn’t judging. He’s not by any means innocent, either. He’s had one-night stands, random hook-ups at parties that involve too much tongue and too little clothes, and heavy make-out sessions at the back of the retro diner near campus. That being said, he’s not on the famous _Im Jaebeom_ ’s level and he probably won’t be in this lifetime. 

Jaebeom turns to the direction of the girl and gives her a little wave before slipping the napkin into Jinyoung’s back pocket. Jinyoung doesn’t have to look to know he’s currently receiving the death glare to end all other death glares in the world.

“We were just talking,” Jaebeom leans in, as if he hadn’t just brought a new problem into Jinyoung’s doorsteps after helping him get rid of an old one.

Jinyoung releases his hold on Jaebeom’s pants and runs a hand through his hair. “Sure.”

“Do you, though?”

“Do I, what?”

Jaebeom lifts his hand from the bartop to tuck a particular stubborn strand of hair behind Jinyoung’s ears. “Feel sorry?”

“Slightly, for the girl,” he sneaks a quick look across the bar, the girl still watching them closely, unsmiling. “She looks like she wants to kill me.”

He measures Jinyoung from head to toe, making him feel slightly uncomfortable in his old ratty t-shirt and bomber jacket. Not to mention the stupid jeans he’s wearing, the ones with that had the napkin with a random girl’s number in their pocket, courtesy to Jaebeom. 

Jaebeom, who has a satisfied grin on his handsome face after he finishes assessing Jinyoung. Jaebeom, who looks nothing short of godly even wearing a simple black tee and cargo pants; Jinyoung is sure he has an entire wardrobe for that look alone. Jaebeom, who holds out a hand to him and tells him, “Let’s give her a reason to, then, shall we?”

He _sucks_ at dancing, which is why he always stays near the bar whenever he goes out with his friends, but there’s something in the atmosphere tonight, something in Jaebeom’s eyes, _something_. It makes Jinyoung reach out for Jaebeom and follows him through the maze of people, their hands tangled loosely.

On the other hand, Jaebeom dances like he’s born for it, smooth waves of motion running through his body. He doesn’t dance for anyone but himself, a cold indifference emanating from his entire being in every step and turn he takes. The rest of the club is his audience, or maybe just Jinyoung, because for the entire duration they stay on the dance floor, all he does is watch Jaebeom in awe. 

Two songs and a half, that’s how long it takes for Jaebeom to pity Jinyoung’s inept ass and drag him through the back alley to catch a break. He digs into his pocket while Jinyoung leans against the wall right next to the door.

Jaebeom lits up a cigarette. Jinyoung crinkles his nose in disapproval but doesn’t express it out loud. He simply scoots a little further from him, trying to inhale as little smoke as possible.

“Want to go back to my place?” Jaebeom asks suddenly.

Jinyoung’s eyes widen. He’s seen Jaebeom drunk on beers and hard liquor on numerous occasions before. This is not one of those times. “Is that cigarette or something else?”

Jaebeom’s eyes are clear, focused solely on Jinyoung. “Cigarette.”

He averts his gaze to the night sky at Jaebeom’s sudden serious tone. “I can stress enough what a terrible idea that is.”

“You don’t have to sleep with me if you don’t want to,” he replies, tone noticeably lighter than before. The difference makes Jinyoung wonder if he’s struck a particularly sensitive nerve by referring to recreational drugs. “We can just order pizza and go up to the roof, talk.”

There’s just one problem with that: Jinyoung _kind of_ wants to sleep with him. No, it’s not some hidden desire he’s been holding in for years. It’s more like this: he has eyes, Jaebeom is hot, it’s basic human biology. Besides, from what he’s heard… he won’t be left disappointed by the end of it. 

Regardless of all the reasons why it could be good, it’s still a terrible idea. They’re _friends_. They have been for years. Jinyoung’s way too logical to let that fact slide like it’s insignificant even if Jaebeom’s impulsive enough to do so. If this decision backfires, karaoke nights and bowling outings will be a pain in the ass, and not the good kind.

Jinyoung shifts his stance. “Will you be smoking in the latter scenario?”

“You mind?” Jaebeom sounds surprised, perhaps because Jinyoung has had so many opportunities to voice his dislike toward the subject but never did.

“That you smoke? I don’t really care about the implications it has for you, but secondhand smoke is not good for my health.”

“Alright, then in this scenario, I won’t.” He emphasises his point by flicking his half-finished cigarette to the ground and stomping on it with his Rick Owens. “Did you even consider the former?”

“My question would have been the same, anyway. If we were to kiss, I’d want to taste you and not nicotine.”

Jaebeom leans back and chuckles to himself. “That was surprisingly well-worded.”

Jinyoung fishes out his phone from his pocket to send Mark a text, letting him know he’ll be going home first. Then he looks at Jaebeom and grins, “Let’s go, hyung.”

* * *

 

He wakes up the next morning disoriented, accompanied with a familiar kind of pain in his ass. For a couple of minutes, it doesn’t register to him that he’s not back in his dorm room and his roommate isn’t snoring from the bed next to his. It’s unfortunate that the realisation comes at the same time Jaebeom stirs next to him, shortly before he cracks open an eye and makes eye-contact with Jinyoung.

That’s when it occurs to him: they’re both naked.

Oh, it’s all coming back to Jinyoung now. Vividly, he might add.

It started out with shotgunning. A can of beer, Jaebeom’s favourite brand. The pizza box laid depleted of content at their feet. Jaebeom opened the can from the bottom and it escaped Jinyoung why he did that— prompting the older man to explain to him in dumbed-down words what shotgunning is. Jinyoung pushed at him playfully, because he _knew_ what it is, he just didn’t know why people do it. 

“Have you ever tried?”

Jinyoung told him no.

So Jaebeom opened another one and handed it to him, but Jinyoung wasn’t quick enough. He ended up totally drenched in beer. To make matters worse, it tasted like old socks. He asked Jaebeom—who at this point was full-on laughing, his eyes disappearing into two thin lines and his body shaking—if he could use his bathroom. Jaebeom was kind enough to recover from his laughter after a minute and took Jinyoung downstairs. 

Jaebeom had burst through the door with a towel in his hand as Jinyoung was taking his pants off to use the hairdryer on it and there was a short, pregnant silence before Jaebeom was suddenly all up in his space.

He towered over him just the slightest bit and asked Jinyoung a simple question.

“Can I kiss you?”

This time, Jinyoung didn’t tell him no.

The rest of the night was nothing but hot and fervent. Annoying at first, because Jaebeom had treated him way too gently, as if he was afraid of breaking Jinyoung. It wasn’t until he snapped and practically ordered Jaebeom to go _harder_ that he finally got the clue. He’d never forget the wolfish grin Jaebeom had given him before started moving his hips at a pace acceptable to Jinyoung.

He made him see stars. 

“G’morning.” Jaebeom greets him, his voice rough from lack of use.

He lifts his arm which was previously draped across Jinyoung’s exposed stomach, rolling onto his back. Damn it, Jinyoung didn’t even feel it there. Those precious minutes he could have used to escape this situation were wasted.

“Morning. Sorry, I should've gotten out of your hair before you woke up,” he tells him sincerely. “I just get sleepy after sex.”

A goddamn made up lie, but one he’s proud of. He came up with it so smoothly for someone who’s not at the top of his game. The truth is, Jaebeom just fucked him so hard Jinyoung didn’t have any energy left to get up and walk back to his dorm.

“It's alright. I think my extreme cuddling habit is also at fault.” Jaebeom wriggles his leg free, the one that was crossed over Jinyoung’s just a few moments ago. 

Jinyoung presses a hand to the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache forming at the back of his head. No, it’s not from the hangover, he can’t even blame the colossal mistake he’s made on alcohol. It’s simply him being a dumbass, agreeing to come back to Jaebeom’s place— _Jackson’s_ place—thinking two men with healthy sex drive can keep their hands off of each other because they’ve been friends for a long, long time, even after spending an entire night flirting back and forth. 

Mark is going to have the time of his life scolding him for this.

“Alright, well, I'll go now.”

He gets up and gathers his clothes at an incredible speed that he’s already halfway through the bedroom door when Jaebeom finally collects himself. “You can, or we can get breakfast.”

“What?” Jinyoung spins around to find Jaebeom sitting up, his back against the headboard of the bed. 

He can’t have heard that correctly.

“What?”

“This is a one-night stand,” he clarifies, pulling his shirt over his head. It still stinks like beer. “Don't you have rules for those? One, don't let them sleep in your bed. Two, don't make them breakfast. It's called a one-night stand, not one-night and one-morning.”

“Chill. I never said anything about making you breakfast. There's a diner nearby that opens twenty-four hours.” Jinyoung doesn’t say anything, but he puts his pants on even as he feels Jaebeom eyeing him intently. “And I was just being nice.”

“Or you want something else.”

Jinyoung takes extra care in choosing his diction, _else_ instead of _more_. 

“It doesn't have to be a one-night stand if you don't want it to be. Last night proved we were sexually compatible and we're both single at the moment... it's a good way as any to spend the time and release tension.” 

He carries on when Jinyoung remains silent. “We can quit if one of us wants to start looking for something serious.”

“I’m not looking for anything, but I just want to get this straight: you're saying we should be fuckbuddies?”

“I was going for friends with benefits,” Jaebeom grins. “We’re already friends, anyway.”

“Sexual benefits.”

“Correct.”

Jinyoung doesn’t know what’s gotten into him beside the obvious; the obvious being Jaebeom’s dick from last night, but he finds himself agreeing to the idea promptly. 

“We need ground rules.”

Jaebeom shakes his head. He gets up from the bed and makes his way over to Jinyoung. “You and your rules,” he kisses the dip of Jinyoung’s throat. “Will you at least have some pancakes first?” he continues nuzzling Jinyoung’s neck and face with his nose and it’s starting to get distracting. “Hyung will treat you, come on.”

Jinyoung pushes him away but steadies his hand on Jaebeom’s waist right after.

“There's another one of your kink showing.”

“Spoken like you've discovered any.”

“I have,” Jinyoung tells him confidently, because he has.

“Please, do tell, Park Jinyoung. What's my kink?”

“Praise.”

Jaebeom hums. “Praise?”

“It's hard to miss the way you shut your eyes in pleasure when I whispered just how good you were doing pressing against me,” Jinyoung leans up to speak directly into Jaebeom’s ear, one hand trailing its way up from his waist to his bare chest, up and up until it settles on the side of Jaebeom’s face. He uses his finger to play with Jaebeom’s dangling earring as he continues, “When I told you how you hit all the right spots, that you're fucking me so hard I was going to pass out from the heat, I could feel your grip tighten, you getting bigger to fill me up even more. You love being told you're amazing.”

The shiver coming from Jaebeom is unmistakeable and Jinyoung feels he’s regained enough self-control for this interaction to come to an equal standing between the two of them. “It probably stems from lack of approval from someone important in your life,” he adds cheekily.

“I brought you back for a fuck,” Jaebeom grumbles, detaching himself from Jinyoung, “not a therapy session.”

Jinyoung doesn’t miss the fact that he admitted his true intentions of asking him to come back with him. He grabs Jaebeom’s wrist in an attempt to stop him from putting even more distance between their bodies, kissing his way through to a more pliant partner. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t afford me as a psychologist.”

Jaebeom snorts but kisses him back anyway. Jinyoung can taste a tinge of old socks flavour from his tongue, but he tries not to protest too much because Jaebeom’s arms are around him and he’s warm. Happy, even, if he’s allowed to go that far.

“For someone who hasn’t even graduated, you sure are full of yourself."

He licks the outer lobe of Jaebeom’s ear. “And last night, you made sure I was full of you.”

“I'm going to regret this very much, aren't I?” Jaebeom asks as Jinyoung’s hand begin to travel south.

Jinyoung pulls back to show him his best impression of a naughty smile. 

“It won't be as much fun if you don’t.” 

He gives Jaebeom’s dick a long stroke and watches his eyes flutter close in gratification.

* * *

 

It turned out, Jaebeom appreciated being woken up with a handjob, because he treated Jinyoung to a huge breakfast that morning. Pancakes _and_ waffles with ice cream on top to share, additional bacon and eggs on the side for himself. They went to the retro dinner Jinyoung frequented and the girl who worked the cashier that morning, Rose, was familiar with Jinyoung and his 2 AM milkshakes cravings. She gave him a smile as he passed her. 

It was still early when they came and naturally, the corner booth was empty, so Jinyoung seated himself and waited for Jaebeom to order at the counter. When he looked over once to check on him,he saw even from a distance that the pink tint on Rose’s cheeks was evidently _not_ from her makeup. Jinyoung shook his head and prayed that the poor girl won’t fall into Jaebeom’s trap the way he did. 

Much to Jinyoung’s surprise, they actually succeeded in establishing ground rules over the course of the meal. Jinyoung had to say he’s pretty satisfied.

It went like this:

  1. They will stay friends.
  2. They will _not_ make it awkward for the two of them and the rest of the group, which means no over-the-top physical interactions when they’re with company.
  3. Sleepovers are kept to a minimum unless they fuck during the day. Jinyoung gets a pass if he falls asleep in the afternoon, Jaebeom will just have to wake him up before 9 if he wants to kick him out.
  4. No jealousy, possessiveness, or other relationship dramas. Jaebeom gets to sleep with whomever he wants on the side. 
  5. So does Jinyoung, if he can find someone he deems suitable enough.
  6. Safe sex.
  7. They will be honest with each other, in terms of what they want sexually and if they’re no longer up for the current arrangement.



It doesn’t become a habit or anything, but once in awhile, Jaebeom would text him, _ramyeon and then go?_ plainly with no emojis whatsoever and Jinyoung would pick up the phone to ask him where he would be at that moment.

Jinyoung texts him too, though a little less frequently and much less cheesy. His messages usually go, _what are you up to, hyung?_

There’s one downside to all of this: bowling nights became even more torturous for Jinyoung because he couldn’t stop staring at the way Jaebeom’s pants hug his ass when he goes to make his throws, so he kept messing up his own game. Gutter balls after gutter balls, even Youngjae was concerned that he had hurt his wrist or something was weighing in his mind. Jaebeom just smirked knowingly when the rest of the group crowded and cooed after him.

When they inevitably found themselves in Jaebeom’s place afterward, Jinyoung didn’t let him come as easily as he normally would. Instead, he had made Jaebeom _beg_ for it. He told him not to wear those skinny jeans ever again to game nights or he would suffer the consequences. Jaebeom bit down on his thigh in protest, making Jinyoung hiss— half in pleasure, half in pain. 

The skinny jeans were never to be seen again. 

No one suspects anything. At least he doesn’t think so. Since Mark knows Jinyoung better than anyone else, he would be the first person to pick up on things. The fact that Mark hasn’t said anything to him brings Jinyoung to the conclusion that he’s safe for now. All is well.

Jinyoung looks across the table and finds Mark staring at him with a confused puppy look on his face.

“Are you wearing makeup?” 

He winces when Mark presses at the sensitive spot Jaebeom had abused just last night.

“That’s—” Mark pulls his hand away and there’s orange concealer on his index finger. Shit. Jinyoung should have gone to the convenient store and bought his own instead of stealing his roommate’s. This is what he gets for being a thief. “That’s. What. IS THAT?!” he practically shrieks.

The cafe is empty except for Yugyeom, who’s currently dozing off next to the coffee machine. The only reason that they’re here on an early Saturday morning is that Mark dragged Yugyeom out for drinks the previous night as Jackson is away on a company event. Now he has to take responsibility by keeping Yugyeom company for his morning shift, to make sure he doesn’t fall asleep at work.

Jinyoung’s somehow got roped into it, too. It’s not a surprise at this point, he would do almost anything for Mark.

“It's called a hickey.”

“Jinyoung!” Mark’s eyebrows almost disappear completely into his hairline, which is impressive because he has a rather large space other people call forehead.

At Mark’s scandalised tone, Jinyoung looks over at Yugyeom and listens carefully for his soft snores. They’re still there. “Lower your voice, hyung.” 

“Why didn't you tell me you're seeing someone?!”

Initially, he wants to retort with a, _You didn’t tell me when you were first seeing Jackson_ , but that wouldn’t have been accurate. Mark being Mark, had made a call to Jinyoung almost immediately after Jackson asked him out, only for Jinyoung to find out that Mark didn’t really have a good grasp of what was happening. 

He still remembers that day like it was yesterday. 

Mark called him out of the blue, which he didn’t normally do. Or ever, really. They had a schedule to call each other because Jinyoung was still in his last year of high school and Mark’s off to college a train ride away from home. 

He sounded a little breathless when Jinyoung answered his call.

_“He kept staring at me so I asked what his problem was and he said maybe he can talk about it over dinner if I’m okay with that. I don’t understand. Does he want to punch me in the face or not?”_

Jinyoung also remembers getting it immediately. He felt bad for the guy, his efforts in flirting, as bad as it was, seemed to completely fly over Mark’s head.

_“He probably does.”_

There was rustling from the other end of the line, like Mark was running away from this stranger, whom he’d know later goes by the name Jackson.

_“Why does he need to punch me after dinner? Is he trying to collect his energy first?”_

Jinyoung had slapped a tired hand over his face. Mark’s reasoning was just too much, it made him a bit worried that he was actually out and about on his own in the scary world of young adulthood.

_“He probably wants to punch you in the face with his lips.”_

A sharp inhale from the other end of the line. “Oh.”

_“Yeah,_ oh _.”_

_“Ok. I gotta hang up, Jinyoungie. Love you.”_

God, he should be getting an award for bringing the world’s most lovey-dovey couple together. He suffered so much through the first few months of their relationship. Mark was shy, he couldn’t understand his own feelings even when Jinyoung was already sure he’s taken entirely by Jackson, so he ended up dumping his incoherent thoughts all on Jinyoung who had to sort through it and _then_ tell Mark what _he_ was actually experiencing.

Jinyoung had taken the initiative to befriend Jackson through Facebook in order to cut short the circle of miscommunication. Jackson wasn’t at all surprised, to his credit, he had listened attentively to Mark’s stories about Jinyoung enough to anticipate him doing something like that. 

The more they talked, the more it became clear to Jinyoung. Despite Mark's quietness, Jackson never translated it as an expression of disinterest and he never complained about it, either. He liked Mark for Mark and was ready to accept whatever Mark allowed him to have. That was everything Jinyoung needed to get on board with their relationship.

Even if it meant they had to pretend they had never interacted when Mark finally introduced the two of them properly, the first time he brought Jackson back home with him. Jinyoung almost lost it and admitted to everything because Mark was so jittery and nervous when he had no reason to; Jinyoung was already getting along perfectly with Jackson. 

Jackson, though, he simply intertwined his fingers with Mark’s and gave him a blinding smile. Jinyoung could only watch the magic of these subtle gestures as it unfolded right in front of him. Mark relaxed, the jitters subsided. Jackson whispered something in his ear and the look Mark gave him immediately after made Jinyoung wonder if that’s what love looked like.

“Jinyoungie?” Mark calls out to him again.

“I'm not,” he answers quickly, “seeing anyone.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

No judgment. Jinyoung loves Mark very much.

“Well, protection,” the older man continues. 

Jinyoung loves Mark a little less. “Oh my God, please stop it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's an update for the weekend <3  
> a little bit of markson to fill in the gaps in your days, and some small development. next chapter will be longer (n juicier) i promise!

They’re hanging out at Jaebeom’s apartment two weeks later when the thought crosses Jinyoung’s mind. “How come you haven’t graduated yet?”

They don’t usually do this, hang out by themselves, but it’s kind of hard asking their friends to join them when there’s a good probability they would end up having sex before Jinyoung leaves. Today doesn’t appear to be one of those days, though, and Jinyoung is fully prepared for it. He has a book in his hand to pass the time, as Jaebeom sits at his study desk and types away on his laptop.

“Hyung.”

Jinyoung tilts his head to the left in confusion. “Did you hit your head? I’m younger.”

“I meant,” Jaebeom turns around to stare at him, “you should call me hyung.”

“This is a real kink, isn’t it?”

“Jinyoung,” the older man says, his tone cautionary.

Not wanting to risk a fight, Jinyoung relents. “Jaebeom-hyung, how come you haven’t graduated yet?”

“Mark hasn’t graduated yet and I don’t see you bothering him about it.”

One of Jaebeom’s favourite thing to do is to divert attention when he’s not keen on the topic of conversation. Most people fall for it and others simply let him get away with it, though Jinyoung is a different case. He’s observed him through the years and even more so the past month, enough to know when his avoidance mode is activated. 

“He needs another year before he gets his teaching license. I don’t bother him with questions I already know the answers to.”

“Well, it’s my fourth year.”

That much Jinyoung is aware of. He’s perfectly aware of how hectic one’s schedule gets when they hit their final year and Jaebeom has been coping with his stress using some unhealthy ways, just like the rest of his cohort: sex, booze, smokes. 

It’s not that Jinyoung’s protesting, since option number one now involves him being pinned underneath the older man.

“You’re Jackson-hyung’s age, though.”

Speaking of which, Jackson definitely had it easier than most. Mark had come up with a foolproof study plan for his boyfriend to tackle all of his subject materials and actually timed Jackson’s attempts at mock-exams like a private tutor. Not that it meant he was completely stress-free— he was high on sugar most of the time and was even jumpier than his normal setting, but all in all it wasn’t that bad. 

“I took a year off before college,” Jaebeom offers Jinyoung after a beat, breaking his trail of thoughts.

The younger waits for elaboration, but nothing ever comes. “Oh. Did you travel?”

“No,” Jaebeom shakes his head. “I worked.”

“Ah. Interesting.”

Jinyoung looks at him to check if he’s crossed any lines by asking Jaebeom questions about his past. His relaxed body language doesn’t seem to suggest so; it might just be him trying to concentrate on the assignment he’s working on. Jinyoung decides to drop it, he figures there’ll be plenty of time to ask later when Jaebeom’s less occupied.

* * *

“Jinyoungie, I wanna ask something,” Mark tells him one morning when Jinyoung picks up some bacon and eggs from the diner and comes to his place.

He doesn’t think much of it at first, Mark’s always been the kind of person that asks other people absurd questions over breakfast. Contemplative ones, when he’s in the right head space, but most of the time they’re just straight up _weird_. Jinyoung would never say this in front of him, though, because he loves Mark. He would also never say it in front of Jackson, because he loves his life and would like to keep it, thank you very much.

“What is it?” 

Mark cuts straight to the chase, doesn’t even ease Jinyoung into it. “Are you fucking Jaebeom?”

Jinyoung almost drops the coffee pot. He steadies his trembling hand and sets the pot down on the counter, grateful that he has his back towards Mark so the other man can’t see the expression on his face which is surely betraying his confidence.

“No,” he answers him. It comes out calmer than how he actually feels.

“Okay.” 

Now, here’s the thing. Mark just drops the matter simply because Jinyoung tells him no and part of him wants to curse at Mark for it. He shouldn’t believe anyone so easily, not even Jinyoung, especially if it makes it easier for people to lie to him and take advantage of how trusting he is. Jinyoung doesn’t want to be one of those people, ever. He’d rather come out and face the consequences of getting caught having sex with Jaebeom than lie to Mark about it and having him buying the lie. The latter scenario would make him feel even worse.

“Jaebeom-hyung's fucking me, though.” 

The room’s silent except for the small confused noise Mark makes at his words.

“Come again?”

He turns around to look Mark in the eyes as the delivers the blow, silently praying that the older man will go easy on him. “You asked if I'm fucking him and the answer is no. He's the one giving it to me.”

“Oh, no,” Mark says, mostly to himself. “No no no no no. Jinyoungie. No.”

“What, hyung?” 

“That's a terrible decision.” 

It doesn’t feel like that to him. Quite the opposite, actually. Being with Jaebeom is easy. Jinyoung doesn’t have to manage his expectations the way he does with other people. Unlike pretty much every single one of his exes, Jaebeom never asks him to pretend to be someone he’s not just to fit a certain image he’s conjured of Jinyoung. He lets Jinyoung be himself; rude when he’s not in the mood, lazy when he’s tired, needy when he’s sprawled on the bed underneath Jaebeom.

“We're friends who occasionally have sex. It's not a big deal.” 

“It certainly isn't to him,” Mark clucks his tongue in disapproval. “I saw him picking up girls and guys at the club last night.”

Mark always knows to hit where it hurts whenever they argue, though this time the joke’s on him. As long as Jaebeom’s not breaking any of the rules they have previously established, Jinyoung couldn’t care less about what he does when they’re not together.

“Alright. Are you finished? I’m pretty hungry.”

* * *

Mark tried to keep it to himself, he really did. He understands that it’s not his business what Jinyoung chooses to do, but he reckons that he’s still going to play the part of the overprotective older brother even when they’re well into their fifties.

So, when Jackson pulls him into his side as they settle on Mark’s couch, he asks him, “Can you do me a favour?”

“Of course, just say the words.”

Mark angles his face up so Jackson can see how serious he is. “Tell Jaebeom to leave Jinyoung alone.”

“Are we still talking about the favour you wanted from me?”

“That is the favour.”

Jackson laughs a little, but it’s fonder rather than mocking. “You can tell Jaebeom that yourself, Mark,” he ruffles Mark’s hair affectionately, “you don’t need a middle man.”

Mark might start to cry because Jackson thinks he’s anxious about talking to someone who’s not him. To a certain extent, he has a point. Mark dislikes talking to strangers and would rather stay quiet around acquaintances, but this is _Jaebeom_. Mark’s seen him naked at least twice this past week, obviously not by choice on both occasions. 

He has no reason to be nervous talking to him, it’s just that he thinks Jaebeom won’t take him seriously. Jackson, on the other hand, has a pretty good shot of being heard. 

Nevertheless, he finds it cute that Jackson still worries about him and his introversion. His boyfriend is just being precious and Marks wants nothing more but to kiss him senseless. He just needs to ensure that the reincarnation of the devil keeps his distance from Jinyoung before he does that.

“He’s your friend, so.”

The jovial smile leaves Jackson’s face. “What does that mean?”

Mark pulls away from him and sits up straight, facing his boyfriend. “Did I say something wrong? He _is_ your friend.”

“Yeah, he is, but I thought he’s yours, too.”

Ah, shit. Jackson’s caught him in a rather complicated trap. 

“Well, I mean…”

Mark’s never thought of it that way. 

“You know Jinyoung is like family to me, right?”

“He is?”

Mark’s never thought about this _that_ way, either.

“Whoa. You don’t think I love Jinyoung as much as you do?”

“That’s silly, of course you don’t. I’ve known him way longer.”

It makes perfect sense to Mark, in that moment. His subconscious didn’t really register Jaebeom as anything more than a threat to Jinyoung’s happiness and to be fair to Jaebeom, he also didn't expect Jackson to look out for Jinyoung.

Jackson’s expression darkens when he hears Mark’s reply and it’s how he knows he’s dug himself a deeper grave. “And because you know him longer, it means he can’t be important to me, too?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Then what are you saying? Because to me it seems like you’re insinuating I don’t give a rat’s ass about Jinyoung’s feelings and that I’m so blinded by my friendship with Jaebeom, I let him do whatever the hell he wants.”

This conversation is going off the rails, Mark decides. He didn’t start it with any intentions of fighting with Jackson, he just wanted some help keeping Jaebeom and Jinyoung apart because he knows with the way things are going right now both of them are going to get hurt, one way or another. 

“Look, I don’t care that Jaebeom is promiscuous, or that you were, too, before we got together,” he cuts to the point. “It doesn’t matter to me, I just don’t want him around Jinyoung if he doesn’t have his shit together.”

Jackson stands up from the couch and takes a step away from it, like Mark just physically hurts him with his words. 

“What did you just say?”

“Exactly what you heard.”

The expression of disbelief on his face morphs into anger. “God, Mark, just because someone’s not a prude doesn’t mean they’re automatically an asshole.”

_What the actual fuck_. Mark just reiterates that he doesn't care about who Jackson had been with before him and instead of being branded the world's coolest, most laidback boyfriend, he gets called a prude for his understanding. 

Tension rises slowly from Mark's stomach and settles on his shoulders. He rises from his seat and stares at Jackson. “Am I the prude in this scenario?”

“I don’t know! You certainly act like you have a huge stick up your ass.”

He misses the chance to come up with a smart comeback because Jackson's already out through the door in the blink of an eye. When Jackson doesn’t return after half an hour and no notifications on Mark’s phone is from him, it becomes clear that Mark won’t be seeing him again tonight. It’s the first night in years that Mark goes to bed without Jackson's _good night and sweet dreams, babe_. 

* * *

After he's no longer carried away by the heat of the moment, Mark realises that he had fucked up monumentally.

“You screwed up, hyung.” Jinyoung clucks his tongue in disapproval. 

Mark sinks back into his seat, a sour taste in his mouth. Jackson hasn't called him all morning and he knows for a fact that Jackson’s not the type of person to bring a fight to bed. He’s one of those people who have a principle of not going to sleep angry and always starting fresh the next day. The sun is now high in the sky and yet there's still no sign of Jackson anywhere. His absence is starting to agitate Mark. 

“Tell me something I don’t know. I didn’t expect him to be that mad.”

“He’s allowed to be,” Jinyoung hums. “What were you thinking?”

Mark wasn't thinking, that's the answer. He's not about to acknowledge it out loud, though. “Hey! I was defending _you_.”

Jinyoung levels him with a serious look which reminds Mark of how intimidating the younger man can be when he wants to present himself in that particular light. He crosses his arms, a sign that he’s no longer tolerating Mark’s bullshit. Quiet and deadly; Mark should have known Jinyoung never needed any protection from anyone. 

“I’m twenty-two. I can defend myself, especially just from a certain Im Jaebeom.”

Welcoming his defeat with open arms, Mark agrees with him. "You're right. I just want what's best for you, I'm sorry I overstepped." 

"Apology accepted,” Jinyoung pats Mark’s shoulder softly, already more relaxed than he had been moments ago, “but I’m not the one who needs it, don’t you think?” 

* * *

Jinyoung dials Jaebeom’s number straight after he parted ways with Mark. Only three rings and Jaebeom’s voice comes through the line.

_“What’s up, Jinyoung-ah?”_

“Mark-hyung knows.” He cuts to the point. 

The silence must’ve not exceeded two seconds, but to Jinyoung it feels like it stretches a whole decade. 

_“Oh. It’s not in the ground rules to hide it from our friends, so it’s okay, right?”_

Jinyoung blinks, he wasn’t anticipating that reaction from Jaebeom at all. He nods, then curses mentally when he realises he’s talking on the phone and there’s no way Jaebeom can tell that he’s moving his head along in agreement. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just… giving you a heads up, I guess.”

_“Thanks. I appreciate it.”_

He ends the call after that, actively trying to ignore the fact that he feels somewhat happy that Jaebeom didn’t even attempt to cover things—their relationship or arrangement or whatever it is _—_ up. Even if the reasoning behind it was logical: they didn’t say anything about keeping it a secret. Jinyoung had just assumed things for the sake of simplicity.

* * *

Mark truly can’t handle the silence coming from Jackson any longer. He’s already too used to the random shrieks, boisterous laughter, even muffled out curses when Jackson accidentally bumps into sharp edges for the hundredth time in one day. He misses Jackson, hates the way his day glooms without his presence and wants nothing more but to be enveloped in Jackson’s arms _right the hell now_.

So he makes his way to Jackson’s shared apartment with Jaebeom, fully knowing that Jackson won’t be back for another couple hours or so. He’s hoping to ambush him in his room, maybe his boyfriend would be caught completely off-guard and that would give Mark a few seconds to lock themselves in. 

He’s fully prepared to find Jaebeom there, yet somehow it still surprises him when the other man greets him casually like Mark wasn’t talking shit about him both in his head and out loud just last night. He wonders how much of their argument Jackson had shared with Jaebeom.

“Hey, Mark, hungry?” Jaebeom holds up a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Mark shakes his head, feeling more guilty by each passing second. “No, I’m good.”

“Really? All good?”

From the tone of his voice, Mark can tell Jaebeom’s not talking about food anymore.

“Not really. Jackson and I fought.”

“Ah,” Jaebeom nods in understanding, “that explains the sad rendition of _My Heart Will Go On_ in the shower this morning.”

It would have been much better if Jaebeom were angry at him, at least he’d throw some hurtful words in Mark’s way and that would allow Mark to reflect and repent on his actions, but Jaebeom doesn’t even look bothered. He treats Mark the way he always has, with cautious respect. The universe is really out to prove him wrong— he should have remembered how much he, too, respected Jaebeom in return.

“I want to apologise.”

Jaebeom takes a bite of his sandwich. “Am I supposed to play Jackson’s role here? Not sure that would be proper casting, seeing that my thighs aren’t as muscly as his.”

“No, Jaebeom-ah,” Mark takes a tentative step forward, “I want to apologise to you.”

“Yah, I get it.”

“Wait, just let me talk.”

“You’re about as red as a boiled crab,” Jaebeom tells him, enunciating each syllable clearly as if Mark wouldn’t be able to understand him otherwise, “and I’d feel really bad if you have to go through with the heartfelt speech I’m sure you’ve written down and revised give or take ten times. I believe you feel bad about whatever it is, so you’re forgiven.”

He revised it _twelve_ times because he’s not an amateur at social interactions, please note that, but he hadn’t expected Jaebeom to know this fact about him.

“You’re protective of Jinyoung because you’re basically his big brother. I can put two and two together. I know you never minded the way I live my life before. It’s just different this time because there’s someone you love at stake, right?”

Tears start to pool around Mark’s eyes. Jackson was right, as he usually is. Mark didn’t need a middle man to talk to Jaebeom because they _are_ friends. They’ve spent years building a friendship, even if Mark doesn’t fully realise it. Sure, he never protested that Jaebeom makes questionable dating choices all the time, but that’s because Jaebeom always said he’s happy that way, which was enough for Mark. 

“I’m… not planning to change. For anyone. Not in the foreseeable future. Jinyoung knows this, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not keeping him, he’s free to walk away whenever he wants. He says he’s not looking for a relationship and neither am I. I chose to believe him when he said that. He’s an adult, yeah? You gotta let him make his own decisions and, well, mistakes.”

Jaebeom searches his face as he stops to catch his breath.

“I hope whatever happens between me and Jinyoung doesn’t change the way you think of me,” he continues, “I like you, whether or not you come as a package with Jackson-ah. Actually, I think I like you better than him.”

Mark lets out a full-blown sob. 

“Hey, yah, don’t cry?” Jaebeom settles his plate on the table and makes his way over to Mark to pat his shoulders reassuringly. “If Jackson’s already threatened to maim me over Jinyoung, he’s definitely going to kill me for this.”

“What…”

“He gave me the talk some time ago,” Jaebeom chuckles. “Swung a butter knife at my face while making toast and all that.”

The revelation that Jackson’s caught on to Jinyoung and Jaebeom's relationship earlier than Mark did is somehow not at all surprising. Jackson holds Jinyoung dear, a fact Mark notes to never forget again. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat?” Jaebeom nudges him with his arm, his demeanour playful again.

Wiping the tears off of his cheeks, Mark gives Jaebeom a small smile. “Pizza?”

“As long as you’re paying, hyung.”

* * *

“I love you,” Mark tells him as soon as Jackson opens the door.

Jackson stares at him, his eyes void of all emotion. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to proceed with the apology he’s repeated to himself a couple dozen times in the past two hours.

“And I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. You love Jinyoung as much as I do. Jaebeom is definitely my friend and he can apparently read my mind. It’s really scary. Hug me?” 

It comes out rushed, more so than Mark had anticipated, but he’s desperate and the pain is starting to manifest physically. Jackson is so close and yet they’re still not touching. Mark _craves_ him. 

Jackson hangs his bag behind the door and approaches Mark with open arms, the older man releasing a relieved sigh at the decreasing distance between their bodies.

“Apology accepted.” The bed dips from Jackson’s weight as he wraps his arms around Mark. “I’m sorry and I love you, too.”

“Even when I’m being irrational and ridiculous?”

“Even when you’re being _highly_ irrational and ridiculous.”

Mark lets his body fall back, pulling Jackson along with him until they’re lying down on the bed, facing each other. He buries his face on the crook of Jackson’s neck. The aching in his heart subsides just by having Jackson back in his space, right where he belongs.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“It is a yes,” Jackson murmurs against his temple.

They keep quiet for a moment after that. The only sound filling the air is their synchronised breathing and occasional notifications from Jackson’s phone. Mark’s been trying to get him to join the dark side and by that, he means people who turns their phone on silent once and forever to no avail. Jackson always retorts with, _I want to hear your ringtone when you call me_. How can Mark go on after that, knowing his ringtone is _Can’t Help Falling in Love_? 

He’s so close to falling asleep when Jackson breaks the silence. “I didn’t sleep around.”

Alerted by his words, Mark immediately snaps his gaze up to catch Jackson’s eyes. “Jackson, I told you I don’t care and I regret ever having brought that up—”

“No,” Jackson insists, shaking his head. “I want you to know. I went with Jaebeom to clubs, that’s true, but I was only ever his wingman. He ditched me multiple times, that bastard. Um, anyway, it’s like, as soon as I was old enough to enjoy some legal nightlife activities, I saw you wearing that oversized pink sweater in class.”

_Fuck._ Jackson’s impossible. His effect on Mark is unmatched by anyone else in this world. Mark’s heart is threatening to burst out of his ribcage and he’s perfectly aware that he’s two seconds from crying, _again_ , even though he thought he’s out of tears for the day.

“That’s pretty much the end of everyone else for me,” Jackson’s hand cups his face. “There was only you.”

“And so you stared at me from across the room for _four months_?” 

He hopes Jackson knows this response is merely an attempt to distract himself since he’s not really keen on the idea of bawling his eyes out again.

From the endeared expression on Jackson’s face as he traces Mark’s feature with his thumb, he does know. “Have you seen you? How I was supposed to know I stood a chance?”

Ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. The question is totally unacceptable and Mark won’t stand for it. Jackson’s _perfect_ and Mark didn’t even think he was asking him out because of how perfect he was— and still is. 

“Have _you_ seen _yourself_?”

“Recently? Yeah. I’m a total catch now. At 19, though? Bleached hair and tinted eyebrows was _not_ a good look on me.”

“Stop.”

Jackson’s brows furrow as he glances down at Mark. “I’m not fidgeting.”

“No, stop saying you’re not attractive. You’re insulting my taste. Are you trying to insult me?”

The edge to Mark’s voice seems to capture Jackson’s attention as he scoots away a little. “What? Of course not!”

“Then admit it,” Mark demands. “You’re handsome.”

“I am?”

Oh my God, seriously? Are all the mirrors in this world broken? Why is there even a question mark behind those two words? Mark wants to sue the inventor of the so-called interrogation point now.

“Yes. The second most handsome man in this world.”

“Second?” his boyfriend asks, a little too quietly for Mark’s liking.

Mark leans up to slant his mouth over Jackson’s. “I’m first, obviously,” he tells him when he pulls away.

“Oh,” Jackson’s brown eyes gleam with amusement, “ _that_ , we can agree on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mmmm did you see that video from their world tour where bambam asked jaebum to choose between jjp and jus2 and he said "got7"? i love one (1) man
> 
> anyway, let me know what you think and come talk to me on [tumblr](https://denisvileneuve.tumblr.com) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/bloominsummer1) i'm currently on semester break <33


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to update yesterday but life has its own plans, but here you go jjpers <3
> 
> warning: there's a sex scene toward the end of this chapter, so if you're not keen on reading that, skip to the end notes and i'll have a small summary of the plot points revealed in the scene.
> 
> we're halfway through this fic, fellas!

Jinyoung hangs out with Yugyeom at a cafe near the younger’s place on his free day. He initially intended to ask Mark out of a meal, but his hyung is too busy falling back into what seems to be his fifth honeymoon phase with Jackson. It should be impossible to stay disgustingly sweet even after years of being together, but Jinyoung knows better than to underestimate them like that. He’s not that stupid to voice this thought out loud, either, or they might just take it as a challenge.

Yugyeom has a Calculus test next week, so Jinyoung lets him study in peace and helps him when he occasionally gets stuck on his differential equation problems. He’s scrolling absentmindedly through his phone when Yugyeom rests his chin on his shoulder and peeks at the content on the screen.

“Hyung, you listen to that?” 

He points to a song by one of Jinyoung’s favourite solo artists, who just recently made a comeback. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty good. Want to listen, Gyeomie?”

The younger man laughs softly, a rare sight to Jinyoung. Yugyeom has the tendency to shake the whole room with him when he laughs and he still has the nerve to mock Jinyoung for the way he restrains himself from falling over every time he finds something slightly amusing.

“No, I’m alright,” Yugyeom shakes his head, his dangling earring sways along as he does so. “Did Jaebeom-hyung tell you about the song?”

Jinyoung wonders how on Earth did they breach the topic of Jaebeom while talking about a love ballad. Not that he would judge anyone by their taste in music, but this seems a little bit out of Jaebeom’s league. 

Okay, who is he kidding? It’s _far_ out of Jaebeom’s league.

“Uh, no? I didn’t know he liked this artist.”

“What? I meant because it’s his song.”

“ _His_ song?” Jinyoung dismisses the thought. “I think it’s a little early to claim that, this had just been released a couple of days ago.”

Yugyeom’s expression turns serious, which, again, is a rare sight to him. “Wait, do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

“It’s his song, as in, his pseudonym is in the credits,” he explains, throwing his long arms wildly around in big gestures for emphasis. “He writes lyrics for a living. Makes great money off of it, too, somehow the royalties don’t dry up. Weird, right? I always thought the entertain—”

Jinyoung stops him with a hand on his arm before he the younger man can go into a full-blown speech about the injustices that exist within the Korean entertainment industry. An aspiring dancer himself, Yugyeom sure has plenty to say about the matter. 

“Which one is he?”

“This one,” Yugyeom points on the first name on the list. “I’m not lying, hyung,” he says again when Jinyoung looks skeptical. “He worked in a production label during his year off.”

Jinyoung has so many questions about the revelation, a good dozen of them at the very least, though Yugyeom’s probably not the person to ask these questions to. He tells Yugyeom to focus back on his work, a piece of advice the younger man takes without uttering a single protest.

* * *

The next time he comes over to hang out at Jaebeom’s place, Jinyoung keeps his eyes glued to his book as he throws the casual question, “We’re friends, right?”

He can see Jaebeom turning his chair to face him from the periphery of his sight, but thinks it might be a better idea not to return his gaze. “Of course,” he suspects there is a slight concern in Jaebeom’s tone, but he might have misheard it. “Did you need something?”

“How come you never told me you’re Defsoul?”

The answer comes after a slight beat. “It never came up in our conversation,” Jaebeom shrugs, eyes averted from Jinyoung’s figure now.

Jinyoung wants to bring up the time they talked about Jaebeom graduating later than Jackson, but realises he never really pushed the matter. When Jaebeom said he’d been working before college, Jinyoung easily assumed he meant hospitality jobs like kitchen staff or barista. Jinyoung and his assumptions have got to stop, he thinks, since some of them proved to be very far from the truth. 

“Oh. That makes sense. All I knew was that you’re majoring in finance.”

“And minoring in music,” the older man supplies.

The words on the pages are now all jumbled up, no matter how hard he tries, he finds himself unable to make sense of it anymore. He closes the book and swings his legs over the bed.

“That’s cool.”

“Really?”

He tries not to think about how fast that question came from Jaebeom, how almost instantly he had asked Jinyoung to clarify whether he was being honest or not. He hadn’t thought that his opinions matter to Jaebeom— he hadn’t thought that they _didn’t_ matter, either, but to know that they carry a certain weight… it’s new information.

“Interesting combination, but yeah.”

Jaebeom gasps mockingly before throwing a hand over his heart, clutching at his sweatshirt in a rather dramatic manner. “I can rest in peace now,” he gushes, “Park Jinyoung thinks I’m cool.”

“I think _Defsoul_ is cool. He writes heartfelt lyrics,” Jinyoung points out. He can’t allow Jaebeom’s ego to get bigger than it already has. “You probably shower twice a week and eat instant ramyeon three times a day.”

“And yet you’re sleeping with me. I must have incredible game.”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

The older man doesn’t offer anything in reply and the silence that falls between them is somehow comfortable, so comfortable that it makes Jinyoung think the conversation is over, but then, “Did you mean that?”

He lifts his head to find Jaebeom staring right at him, not through him, but _at_ him. The short hairs on the back of Jinyoung’s neck stand up from the look in Jaebeom’s eyes. It’s vulnerable and serious at the same time; like Jaebeom had contemplated whether or not he should ask before he did. 

If he looks away, the moment will be broken. He doesn’t know if that’s what he wants. He doesn’t know what _Jaebeom_ wants. It reminds him of the rules, the ones they made up over sickeningly sweet maple syrup on their pancakes. _They will be honest about what they want_. 

For the first time since Jaebeom kissed him that night, Jinyoung wonders how it would be like if he was to cross that invisible line that exist between the two of them and ask Jaebeom if there’s space for one more in his personal bubble.

A small voice at the back of his mind tells him it won’t end as happily as he’s imagining it.

“Yes, I’d like not to be reminded of the fact we sleep together,” Jinyoung clears his throat finally, “occasionally.”

Lies.

“No, I mean do you really think my lyrics are great?”

Blinking a couple of times at Jaebeom to make sure he didn’t hear him incorrectly, Jinyoung is taken aback by the particular point from their conversation Jaebeom chose to emphasise on.

“Oh. Yes. Why else would I say that?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people say things they don’t mean.”

“Not me.”

Why did he feel the need to clarify that so urgently? These questions popping in his head, he’s uncomfortable with the fact that for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t have any answers for them.

Jaebeom raises both eyebrows at his rushed answer.

“Most of the time, I only say things I mean,” Jinyoung says again, in a tone that he hopes carries his sincerity.

He only gets a solemn nod in return, then the chair squeaks as Jaebeom turns toward his desk again, squinting at the market analysis on his laptop. Jinyoung watches him for a moment, eyes traveling from his wide shoulders—ones that seemed strong even with all the weight they’re carrying—down to the small of his back, the spot where Jinyoung usually digs his nail into when Jaebeom’s thrusting into him.

The air feels thick, with what he can’t name, so he excuses himself to the kitchen for the lame reason of wanting to drink some milk. Jaebeom dismisses him with a wave of hand and when Jinyoung finds a particular lighter in the trash as he disposes of the empty milk carton, he’s totally clueless on how to interpret that.

* * *

_“What’re you up to?”_ Jaebeom asks him as soon as Jinyoung picks up his call, not even letting him say hello.

“I’m a little under the weather, actually. Can’t hang out.”

A mild understatement. He hasn’t been sleeping properly for the last week, his assignments getting the better of him. It didn’t help that he survived mostly on caffeine and cheese crackers the whole time, he had been feeling so pressured his mouth tasted bland no matter what food he tried to put in his system. The only relief was that the first wave of nausea had hit him right after he clicked the button to submit his last online quiz.

_“Oh?”_

“Yeah.”

_“Okay.”_ Jaebeom hangs up.

_Rude,_ Jinyoung thinks.

He considers calling Jaebeom again just to scold him for being inconsiderate but eventually decides that would be too energy-consuming and he currently doesn’t have a lot of reserves. He places his phone on the small table next to his bed and closes his eyes, trying his best to get the rest his body so desperately needs.

He almost succeeds at falling asleep when there are rapping on his door, knuckles against wood. 

Jinyoung ignores it. The person outside surely can take a hint, right?

_Wrong_. The knocking only grows louder with time and towards the end, Jinyoung swears there’s a rather familiar beat to it. He groans inwardly, but gets up from the bed and yells, “Yeah! Coming!” 

He swings open the door with enough force to scare the person on the other side. When he sees who it is, though, the fight leaves him just like _that_.

“What… are you doing here?” 

Jaebeom ignores his question and walks past him into the room.

“I forgot how small the university dorms are,” he looks around, scrunching his nose at the mess on Jinyoung’s roommate’s side of the humble establishment. “Where’s your roommate?”

“He’s got a girlfriend and her bed is way much better than this shitty excuse of a mattress,” Jinyoung answers him, to which Jaebeom raises his eyebrows. “His words, not mine.”

“Brought you soup,” he says easily, lifting the plastic bag in his hand.

“Why?”

Jaebeom settles the bag on top of Jinyoung’s study desk and moves toward Jinyoung, who’s so unprepared for it he doesn’t move away. 

“Because you’re sick, right?” The back of his hand is suddenly pressed against Jinyoung’s forehead. “You should eat, drink your medicine and go to sleep. I’ll stick around in case it gets worse.”

“It’s a cold, I won’t die.”

“I have nothing to do.”

Ironically, that’s when Jaebeom’s phone rings.

“Hey, what’s up?” he glances at Jinyoung. “Nah, I can’t do right now. No, not tonight either.”

The call ends soon after, the only thing it leaves behind is the slight guilt pooling in the pit of Jinyoung’s stomach. He has questions, even more questions than that time at Jaebeom’s apartment when they had a heart-to-heart conversation. At least Jinyoung had reflected enough to actually label it that and never mentioned it again since then.

Why is Jaebeom here? 

_This is what friends do_ , his logic tells him. 

_Maybe not_ , his hope pipes up.

“Just go,” Jinyoung insists, leaving out the _or I’ll start seeing things that aren’t there_. “Whoever that was must be more important than playing babysitter for me.”

Seemingly set on his mission, Jaebeom ignores him again. “So, which way is the communal kitchen?” he asks instead, “We’re going to need some bowls.”

His eyes are glued to Jaebeom’s figure as the older man opens the door and disappears into the hallway, calling Jinyoung out to follow him. After they procure the necessary utensils, Jaebeom lets him eat in silence, only stopping Jinyoung once to tug the sleeves of his sweater back so they won’t dip into the soup. He eats alongside Jinyoung, quieter than he’s ever been, as if he knows that the slightest noise can worsen the younger’s headache.

When they’re done, Jaebeom cleans. A rare sight. Whenever they order takeouts, Jaebeom would always make him clean, to which Jinyoung agrees easily because Jaebeom always pays. _I’m the hyung_ , he would say. Jinyoung would bite back the remark about it being one of the older’s kinks in order to secure free food.

He leaves the room to dispose of their trash and Jinyoung doesn’t know whether he’s coming back, but he’s too tired to do anything about it. The soup tasted nice, it makes him feel all warm, and he knows he’s getting drowsy. Sleep is just a blink away.

Then, the door clicks and the faint scent of perfume tells him Jaebeom is back in his proximity. He opens his eyes slowly and sees the older man’s figure stretched out over his ratty chair, playing with his phone, not noticing Jinyoung.

He must have been staring at Jaebeom for two straight minutes before Jaebeom pockets his phone and smirks at him. “You gonna kiss me or what?”

“What?”

“You’re looking at me with your bedroom eyes,” Jinyoung’s about to protest at the accusation when Jaebeom cuts him off. “Don’t lie, I know exactly which look it is.”

“I, uh, wasn’t thinking—” Jaebeom’s wheels the chair towards the bed as Jinyoung stutters intelligently through his reply, “Stop moving closer!”

It’s no use protesting. Jaebeom’s close now, _so close_. The twin moles on his left eyelid are extra distracting when they’re not at a distance.

“May I kiss you?”

Oh, God. The question reminds Jinyoung of that night in Jaebeom’s bathroom, but he’s no longer surprised by it. Everything seems to remind him of Jaebeom, or that night, or the combination of the two. He’s never been like this before, never _felt_ like this. There it is again, the funny feeling in his stomach he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“No?” he sounds a little breathless, “Hyung, I’m sick.”

“I have an excellent immune system.”

“That’s beside the point. I just puked my guts out before you came, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Bullshit,” Jaebeom decides smugly. “There’s no way you looked as hot as you did when you opened the door if you had been puking.” 

Jinyoung groans and rolls to his side, his back turned toward Jaebeom. He soon realises that he had made a mistake doing so, because Jaebeom’s hand is soon moving up and down his back soothingly before settling on his shoulder.

“Jinyoungie, hyung brought you food,” he gives him a firm squeeze. “Isn’t that enough reason to grant hyung’s small wish?”

He continues with his movement again and it hits Jinyoung that he’s giving him a _massage_. Jinyoung quickly moves to lie on his back again, knowing he’s just trading Jaebeom’s hand for his lips.

“If you get sick—”

“I won’t.” 

“Don’t blame me,” he finishes.

Jinyoung waits for a kiss to his mouth, since that was the main implication of Jaebeom’s question. He doesn’t know whether it will be rough nor soft, he’s done predicting Jaebeom’s moods when it comes to kissing a long time ago. He just closes his eyes and lets whatever’s about to happen… happen.

Sometimes, expectations are far from reality.

Jaebeom kisses him, alright.

On the forehead. 

Then right next to his left eyebrow— on the side of his face Jaebeom has the most access to.

There’s two more to his cheek, the second one so careful Jaebeom’s lips barely touch his skin, and another to the sensitive spot underneath his ear.

The final one lands on his jaw. 

He’s too afraid to open his eyes, too afraid of liking what he sees. Jinyoung knows too well that Jaebeom holds the power to devastate him and he can’t let him, he _can’t_. So he evens out his breathing and pretends to fall asleep, ignoring the fond chuckle Jaebeom gives him as he threads his fingers through Jinyoung’s hair once before wheeling away.

In his sleep, Jinyoung dreams of a prince who smiles like he knows the secret to the universe, whose eyes disappear when Jinyoung tells him a stupid joke. He dreams of shampoo that doesn’t smell like his, then he’s falling through limbo and lands on a bed much bigger than his own, with a familiar pattern on the sheets.

He wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat, his fever broken. Jaebeom’s gone as expected, but Jinyoung can still feel the ghost of his lips all over his skin.

* * *

“Are you proud of me?” Jackson asks as he unbuttons his dress shirt.

Mark stills for a moment, which is fair since the question is thrown at him out of nowhere. “Always.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“What’s going on?” he moves closer to Jackson slowly after noticing the odd hitch in his boyfriend’s voice.

“It’s just… you know,” Jackson throws his hands around. That means whatever it is, it’s bothering him. The excessive gestures don’t usually come out unless Jackson lets a problem stew and now the pot is overflowing. “When people ask you what I do, you say I’m an engineer.”

“You have an engineering degree.”

“That part is true, but it’s rather a misleading answer, don’t you think? I’m an audio engineer. They probably imagine I’m some kind of rocket scientist.”

Mark is lost as to where that scenario came from. “Why would they think that if I shove your mixtape at their faces afterward?”

“Oh, my God,” Jackson’s eyes widen in realisation. “All my new followers on Soundcloud are your student teacher friends.”

Damn right. Mark’s literally been told to shut up on multiple occasions because he couldn’t stop gushing about what a great job Jackson had done that it made all his friends, single or taken, want to strangle him to death. He kept on telling them about his favourite track, _XCIII_ , the one he gave everyone his recommendation to listen to simply because it starts with a dedication to him.

_To Mark, for introducing me to love._

“Besides,” he reaches out a hand to help Jackson undress. “I only tell them you’re an engineer so that when they ask me why I said that, I can answer it’s because you get my gears going.” He glances up at the younger man, then winks.

Yeah, whoever says Jackson always seems to know what to say clearly hasn’t seen the full effect Mark has on him. 

“That’s… abysmal, Markie.” Jackson finally decides after gaping for a full minute.

There was nothing but love in his eyes, though, so Mark chooses to ignore his retort and echoes his question back to him. “Are you proud of me?”

“A plus for effort, I guess,” Jackson shrugs.

Mark tugs at the front of his shirt harshly, causing Jackson to stumble into his arms. “Hey!”

“Always,” Jackson touches the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth turned upward just slightly. “Always.”

* * *

They settle into a more comfortable routine after Jinyoung gets better. Jaebeom sends him random cat facts and Jinyoung pretends like he doesn’t care for them, but subconsciously waits for the texts as he goes through his days.

One afternoon, Jinyoung accidentally fell asleep in Jaebeom’s bed after they showered together and when he opened his eyes again, the clock on Jaebeom’s bedside read 2 AM. He realised that Jaebeom didn’t wake him up, which was against the rules, and Jinyoung is nothing if not a stickler for them. For the record, he tried to detach himself from Jaebeom, but it was impossible to do so without waking the older man up. Instead of loosening his grip, Jaebeom had pulled him closer to his chest when Jinyoung pried his arm from around his stomach.

Jinyoung gave up after another failed attempt and decided to go back to sleep. He was prepared for an awkward atmosphere in the morning, but Jaebeom made it easier by leaving early. Jinyoung woke up to a hand-written note that said there were some bacon and eggs in the kitchen.

He decided not to touch them. 

He knows he’s dancing around the inevitable, fully aware of the time bomb that’s waiting to explode on both of them. What they have is too good, though, too good for Jinyoung just to drop everything and walk away. It might have been better if Jaebeom hasn’t changed as much as Jinyoung has. He’s aware of this too, of Jaebeom dropping his bad habits one by one as if to accommodate space for Jinyoung as his new addiction. 

Jinyoung tested his boundaries with the littlest things, praying he doesn’t get burned even as he’s playing with fire. He ‘accidentally’ fell asleep another time and Jaebeom didn’t wake him up, again. Jaebeom stayed in the morning, too, and Jinyoung got to watch him for a good thirty minutes before his alarm rang. They didn’t have a chance to be awkward around each other because Jaebeom didn’t have any class that day, so he simply pressed a kiss to the corner of Jinyoung’s mouth before rolling back to sleep.

He stopped for awhile after that, finding he needed time to process the new development. Before he could decide what to do with it, there came a night when Jaebeom asked him to stay with a soft voice and a hand curled around his wrist. Jinyoung couldn’t say no— he didn’t know how to. Contrary to his belief, the world didn’t end when they woke up the next morning and got ready for their day in comfortable silence. It became a more frequent occurrence after that.

Jinyoung asked Jaebeom questions about his music, too. Questions he knew weren’t too forward but at the same time took him further and further into Jaebeom’s private bubble. Mark stopped giving him worried looks whenever he and Jaebeom arrived together to their group outings; they have since been replaced with supporting thumbs-up and affectionate claps on his back. It’s simultaneously better and worse, because Mark thinks Jinyoung knows what he’s doing when the truth is he’s starting to get lost.

No one in their group questioned them when they go back together, either.

Maybe that’s why it’s normal for Jinyoung to barge through Jaebeom’s door in the middle of the day, right after he’s done with his Friday classes, with the purpose of asking him to get food together.

The first thing Jinyoung’s eyes focus on when he opens the door is the three large bouquets of red roses on Jaebeom's bed. The second thing is Jaebeom, walking past Jinyoung to the other side of the room without a shirt on, his eyes darting around as he looks for something. Jinyoung’s eyes don’t focus on anything else after that.

"What's with all the flowers?” Jinyoung asks as he grabs the Batman Rolex from the study desk and hands it over to Jaebeom. 

Jaebeom grins and takes it from him. It was a lucky guess, really, that it had been what he was looking for. Jinyoung would say _educated_ instead of _lucky_ , but that’s basically admitting that he had been studying Jaebeom and the little things about him intently.

"It's my Eomma's birthday,” he explains, pulling a white shirt over his head.

"And you're giving her roses?”

A sharp look is cast in Jinyoung’s direction. "Is there a problem with that?”

It’s cute how defensive Jaebeom gets in just a second, though it’s far from Jinyoung’s original intention. This side of the older man is not something he’s used to seeing, that’s all. Jaebeom doesn’t talk about his family a lot and Jinyoung can’t recall a single time when he sees him on the phone with his parents off the top of his head. 

“No,” Jinyoung shakes his head. “I think it's really sweet of you. She'll be very happy, hyung." 

The bright smile returns to grace Jaebeom’s handsome features and before Jinyoung can return the favour, he’s already being presented with yet another gift. An invitation. ”Would you like to come with me?"

Jinyoung braces himself for Jaebeom to retract his invitation, because surely that just _slipped_ out of him. He probably didn’t mean that the way Jinyoung wants him to. 

Ten seconds pass. Then another ten. Jaebeom’s still waiting for his answer, rummaging around through his drawer for his wallet. 

"Is that okay?"

“Yeah,” he straightens up. “I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"Okay, cool. Should I go back and change into something nicer?”

The huff that escapes Jaebeom suspiciously sounds like a bitten-back laugh. "You're wearing button-downs. It's nicer than my entire closet, you'll be fine.”

* * *

Jinyoung’s pleasantly surprised to find that the interactions between two of them on the way to Jaebeom’s hometown were natural. They drove with their windows down, Jinyoung’s phone connected to the audio system to provide the music for the road trip. He felt a little self-conscious since he knew that Jaebeom’s eloquent in the music department, so there was a chance that he might be getting judged for his random playlists.

If Jaebeom disapproved, he didn’t say much. The only protest he made was when one of his songs started playing and Jinyoung refused to skip it. Jaebeom kept groaning every two seconds while Jinyoung belted the tune using his maximum lung capacity. Unfortunately for the older, they stopped at a traffic light just right at the chorus and the people in the car next to them definitely sent dirty looks their way.

His nerves only caught up to the situation when they arrived in front of Jaebeom’s house. Jinyoung’s legs turn to lead as he walks the small path up from the front gate toward the door, the roses almost crushed in his death grip. Jaebeom notices the slight hesitation in his steps and Jinyoung thinks he’d die there and then if Jaebeom moves to hold his hand. Thankfully, he doesn’t do that, instead he puts his arm—the one that’s not holding two bouquets at the same time—around Jinyoung in a friendly manner and doesn’t let go even as he raps his knuckles against the wooden door.

Jaebeom’s mom opens the door and Jinyoung immediately knows it’s her because of the facial features she passed on to Jaebeom. It’s hard not to recognise them when he spent hours at night biting along Jaebeom’s sharp jawline followed by hours in the morning watching the first rays of sunlight hit the bridge of his nose.

After kissing his mom on both cheeks, the older man introduces him as a friend, which Jinyoung is totally okay with. She gives Jinyoung a wide smile before pulling him into a warm hug and ushering him into the house. He moves to place the flowers he’s holding on top of the shoes drawer in the foyer, but stops in his track when he sees a purple-themed arrangement of what he thinks are hydrangeas and daisies already perched there.

He turns to Jaebeom, who’s already looking at the same thing he is.

“Who’s this from?” he asks.

There’s an amused twinkle in his mom’s eyes. “You can guess.”

“That bastard.”

“Language,” she chides.

“Sorry.” 

Jinyoung suspects he’s not sorry at all. “Who?” he whispers, because that can’t be his father Jaebeom was referring to.

“Jackson,” Jaebeom answers under his breath. “He races _me_ to send _my mother_ flowers on her birthday. He’s been doing this since we were kids.”

The annoyance might be real if the nose-scrunching is any indication of that. Jinyoung can either sympathise or tease him further, but it’s not really a difficult choice. Jinyoung wouldn’t be himself if he doesn’t choose the latter option.

“That’s cute.” 

Jinyoung’s unsure whether he was referring to Jackson’s act or Jaebeom’s facial expression.

“No, it’s not,” Jaebeom promptly looks betrayed as he thinks Jinyoung’s siding with his best friend, and it’s totally _cute_. Guess it was his facial expression Jinyoung meant, after all. “It’s infuriating.”

Jinyoung just stares into his eyes and the quiet exasperation radiating from them. He almost forgets that they’re not alone in the room when Jaebeom’s mom clears her throat, breaking the spell.

“You’ll always be my favourite son, Jaebeom,” she smiles sweetly at him. At least Jinyoung hopes it’s directed at her son, since otherwise it would be directed at _them_ and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

Jaebeom tears his eyes away from Jinyoung and turns to her. “I better be, you only have one child.”

“Not according to Jackson.”

* * *

They eat together and Jinyoung basks in the fact that he’s allowed to witness this side of Jaebeom, the one who’s soft and all smiles around his mom, who uses the baby voice to talk to his cats, who presses his thigh along the side of Jinyoung’s as they sit next to each other at the dining table.

He doesn’t panic when Jaebeom announces that he’s going to the shop to buy some soy milk, playfully glaring at his mom for not stocking up even though she knew he was coming to visit. He waits for Jinyoung by the door, but Jinyoung doesn’t feel the need to escape anymore, so he tells Jaebeom he’ll be here when he gets back.

Jinyoung helps Jaebeom’s mom make some tea and brings them out to the back porch, where they talk about Jinyoung’s school life and what he plans to do after he graduates. He replies politely to her questions, even though he keeps getting distracted by a particular cushion on the wooden-framed bench that seems out of place, yet still a part of the big picture.

She must have noticed his divided attention as she offered him a quiet explanation, “The house is under his name.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jinyoung turns to her. “I didn’t mean—”

“No, it’s alright. That’s why every nook and cranny for this place is screaming his name, if that’s what you were wondering,” she uses his hand to gesture to the house in its entirety. “I let him decorate it.”

“It is very telling of his personality. In a good way,” Jinyoung chuckles.

“Jaebeom sends me money to settle the mortgage, even though I’m still working and more than capable of making the payments. He doesn’t let me pay for his tuition, either. Do you think he’s pushing himself too hard?”

The atmosphere shifted into something significantly more serious than their previous small talk. This is no longer a conversation they’re having just to fill the silence, the question presented to him is laced with real worry and doubts, both of which Jinyoung feels responsible to eliminate.

“No, eomonim. I can assure you he’s having as much fun as any other college student would,” he replies as convincingly as he could, then adds, “The only danger to his health is his affinity for breakdancing,” for good measure.

She laughs at Jinyoung’s words, her eyes disappearing the way Jaebeom’s do in the rare cases he allows Jinyoung to see him laugh properly.

“He does this every year. The flowers. Some years he'd be on top of his game and beat Jackson to it.” 

“He loves you very much.”

Jinyoung doesn’t doubt it.

“I know,” She doesn’t seem to doubt it, either. “He’s my entire world.”

He offers her a small smile.

“What about you?”

Jinyoung chuckles to himself. Well, Jaebeom’s ought to get his flirting skills from somewhere. "I think Jaebeom-hyung will be extremely jealous if I say the same." 

"You're a funny young man,” she says again, but without laughter this time. “What I meant was do you know that my son loves you?”

Jinyoung didn’t see that hit coming from half a metre to his left. He thinks he’s lost his touch, the ability to know what other people are going to throw at him. 

“Ah. We. We're not really—”

“That's fine, Jinyoung-ah,” she rectifies quickly. “I hope I didn't pressure you into anything. He doesn't really bring people back home besides Jackson and that boy's seen him in his yellow hair phase so I'm not sure he counts.”

They both know she’s doing him a favour by giving him a way out. Mentally berating himself for being reduced to an incoherent mess just by a simple question, Jinyoung takes the help offered to him.

“He had yellow hair?” 

“They both did,” she tells him conspiratorially. “I have pictures, if you'd like to see them. They wanted to go blond, I think. Alas, the box dyes didn't work out.” 

* * *

“Stay,” his mom tells him when Jaebeom checks his watch for the hundredth time that night, “I barely see you these days.”

Jaebeom looks at her, who’s currently doing the best pouty impression Jinyoung has ever seen, and sighs dramatically in defeat. “So unfair,” he leans back into the couch. “How can I say no to that beautiful face?”

“You’re adorable,” Jinyoung comments before he can stop himself. He lifts a hand to the back of his neck, scratching idly to calm his nerves. “I better get going, it’s almost 11,” he tells them. “Wouldn’t want to miss the connecting train to City Hall.”

He gets up from the couch and expects Jaebeom to follow after him, but the older man remains in his seating position and only watches Jinyoung in amusement. He clears his throat. “Can you give me a ride?”

“Nonsense,” Jaebeom’s mom cuts in before her son can get a word out. “Jaebeom, tell Jinyoung-ah to stay here for the night.”

Jinyoung glances at the older man warily. He doesn’t want to overstay his welcome and truth be told, today’s probably already more than what Jaebeom initially wanted him to have. He tells himself to try not feeling hurt when Jaebeom inevitably dismisses the idea, but it turns out he doesn't have to.

“Stay, Jinyoung,” he smiles up at him.

“I don’t have any clothes, hyung.”

A lame excuse, totally not one of his finest comebacks.

“You can wear mine. Tomorrow’s the weekend, anyway,” Jaebeom reasons. “We can walk around town and drive back after dinner, so you can still study for that test on Monday.”

Jinyoung is a rational person. He couldn’t find any flaw in that counterargument _and_ Jaebeom won extra points by accounting for his upcoming test— one he didn’t even remember telling him about. He nods quickly at him and his mom before sitting back down. 

“Sorry to impose on your hospitality for the night,” he bows slightly to Jaebeom’s mom.

She coos at him in return. “Aw, so polite, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung smiles at her and looks over to Jaebeom, who is replicating Jinyoung’s smile down to the slight pout. _Mimicking_ , Jinyoung thinks. _Happens subconsciously when you like or admire the other person._ When Jaebeom’s hand moves to settle on top of his thigh and stays there for the rest of the night, Jinyoung decides that it’s no one’s business but theirs.

They retreat to Jaebeom’s room not long after his mom excused herself to go to bed. Jinyoung’s not surprised to find that Jaebeom’s old bed is entirely too small to accommodate two fully grown men, so he asked if Jaebeom has a blanket or something he can use to sleep on the floor. 

Jaebeom hands him a set of clothes from his wardrobe and tells Jinyoung to go change while he sets up the room, which Jinyoung should know is not a sign of good intentions. He returns to the room with the mattress laid on the floor and the frame pushed up against the furthest wall from the door. 

They’re going to _sleep together_. In Jaebeom’s old room, in his _home_. He feels the need to call Mark and screams at him to come to pick him up, but doesn’t know what excuse is believable enough to give Jaebeom for making a phone call at this hour. He pads over softly to Jaebeom, who pats the small empty space next to him, scooting over a little to make room for Jinyoung. 

Jinyoung says his goodnight and closes his eyes with his back turned toward the older man, purposefully giving him the cold shoulder, figuratively speaking.

Of course, Jaebeom doesn’t take the hint.

“Are you serious?” Jinyoung hisses when he feels Jaebeom’s fingers skirting just above the waistband of his boxers.

Technically, they’re Jaebeom’s and he’s just borrowing them. It’s slightly too big on him.

He turns around to glare at Jaebeom.

“What?” Jaebeom asks innocently.

Jinyoung almost screams, but he breathes in and out once and manages to keep his volume down to a whisper-shout, “Your mother is upstairs!”

“Noise travels downward.”

“That is scientifically incorrect,” he pinches the back of Jaebeom’s hand, “ _stop_.”

“Please?”

“You think you can say please and I’ll do whatever you want?”

“It’s worth a try,” he nudges Jinyoung’s cheek with his nose. “My mom is a very heavy sleeper.”

That’s not even the slightest bit reassuring to Jinyoung. Jaebeom pulls back a little, just enough to properly look at Jinyoung. His eyes are shining from… happiness? Is that what Jinyoung’s really seeing or is it just what he _wants_ to be seeing? 

Jaebeom bit his lips and it breaks any resolve Jinyoung might have had.

“I’m going to hell,” he sighs and inches closer to slot his mouth over Jaebeom’s. “Do you even have a condom?”

He gets a chuckle in return for his question. “Like I ever go anywhere without one if you’re coming with.” Jinyoung rolls his eyes and just pulls Jaebeom back into his space, biting lightly on his lips in retaliation. 

Jaebeom gasps and his breathing gets heavier as Jinyoung slips his hand underneath his thin shirt, letting it travel from the base of his spine up along the column. A hand shoots up to cup Jinyoung’s jaw, a thumb hooked underneath his chin to angle his face upward. Jaebeom deepens the kiss while Jinyoung fights to stay as quiet as possible. 

He moves away eventually, his lips red and skin flushed from what little action they just had. Jinyoung thinks he looks absolutely stunning in this lighting, just a faint yellow glow from the lamp near the bathroom door and the rest is credit to the moonlight streaming through the open window. He latches his lips to the hollow of Jaebeom’s throat as the man moves to position himself above him. 

A quiet moan fills the air and the sound reverberates straight down to Jinyoung’s cock. 

Jaebeom is straddling him now, quickly pulling his shirt over his head before swooping down to press his lips against Jinyoung’s again. He hums in satisfaction when Jinyoung automatically opens up under him and lets Jaebeom map the inside of Jinyoung's with his tongue. The younger reaches down into Jaebeom’s pants, his hand finding what it’s looking for with ease. He thumbs over the slit and notes happily that it’s already leaking with a generous amount of pre-come. 

Another gasp escapes Jaebeom and Jinyoung swallows the sound directly with his mouth. He starts moving his hand up and down the Jaebeom's length in a rhythm he’s mastered sometime in the last eight months. In the back of his mind, he remembers which actions will rile Jaebeom up slowly and which ones will have him begging for Jinyoung to hurry up and give it to him. 

The arms Jaebeom has on either side of Jinyoung’s head tremble a little from the excitement and it gives Jinyoung pleasure, too, the knowledge that he’s able to do this to Jaebeom. He stops kissing Jinyoung, but rests their forehead together and whispers _yeah, Jinyoung, like that_ and _fuck, you’re amazing_ repeatedly into the small space between their bodies. Jinyoung takes his hand back from Jaebeom’s pants when he knows he’s right near the edge. Using his other hand, the one’s not previously shoved down Jaebeom’s boxers, he tucks a strand of hair that’s falling right into Jaebeom’s eyes behind his ear.

“Okay?” he asks Jaebeom quietly.

Jaebeom kisses him as an answer. Chaste, yet it burns Jinyoung hotter than the previous ones. He pushes Jinyoung’s underwear down to his knees and starts working his finger into him. Jinyoung’s feeling entirely too distracted that he doesn’t even catch Jaebeom putting on lube, but the cool sensation tells him he did at some point. 

He’s careful, as always, he never does anything that could possibly hurt Jinyoung when he prepares him. It frustrates Jinyoung so much at the beginning because he wanted a quick release and Jaebeom’s always taking his damn time trying to triple check everything before moving on to the main act. Tonight, though, he appreciates it. Appreciates the slow, sensual kisses Jaebeom peppers on his neck, his collarbone, then down on his sternum. Appreciates the fact that Jaebeom sucks on his tongue as he adds a second finger, soothing the burn in his own unique way. Jinyoung lets out a sound when said finger hooks right where his sweet spot is and he doesn’t realise that it might not have been an entirely enthusiastic exclamation until Jaebeom pauses his ministrations.

“Do you want to stop?”

He looks down at Jinyoung, a worry line appearing on his forehead. Jinyoung clenches around him instead, which earns him raised eyebrows, but still no signs of Jaebeom continuing.

“Too late now, don’t you think?” he huffs out finally when he realises Jaebeom’s waiting for his verbal confirmation.

“No,” Jaebeom rests his elbow on the mattress and caresses Jinyoung’s face with his free hand. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to.”

This is fucking ridiculous. Jaebeom’s two fingers deep in him and if Jinyoung moves even just the slightest, they will brush against his prostate and they shouldn’t be having this entirely too intimate conversation when they’re right on the verge of fucking. It breaks the illusion of keeping the emotional and physical aspect of this arrangement apart and how— how is Jaebeom doing this without any thoughts of the repercussions it might have on their relationship?

“Too late, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung returns again, stubbornly, this time even dropping the honorifics altogether.

If Jaebeom gets annoyed by his tone, he will have to excuse himself to the bathroom to finish the job on his own. He waits for the older man to pull his hand away, either the one on his ass or the one on his face, but neither made any move. 

Jaebeom just bites his earlobe playfully before leaning back and telling him with a straight face, “No, it’s not. Even if I’m already inside you, it’s not too late, okay?”

The proverbial lightbulb goes off above Jinyoung’s head. 

_Can I kiss you?_

_May I kiss you?_

_Are you okay with this?_

_Do you want to stop?_

Fuck. Jaebeom always goes the extra mile to make sure they’re on the same page and that’s actually really fucking _hot_.

“I want this,” he reassures him. “I want you. I always want you, hyung. What about you?”

Jaebeom nods in understanding while Jinyoung tries not to mind the fact that he sounds more candid than he had intended. 

“I want you. Just… there’s never any harm in asking,” Jaebeom tells him pointedly, but he’s smiling again, and his fingers, his _fingers_ are _moving_ again and—

“Then ask,” Jinyoung lets out between gasps, “and I’ll tell you my answer.”

They’re quiet after that, more focused on the task at hand now that they’ve cleared up the air about what they both desire. Jinyoung is completely prepared when Jaebeom finally lines his dick against his entrance and pushes his way in with one swift, practiced move. He’s prepared to hook his legs behind Jaebeom’s waist and pulls him closer. Prepared for Jaebeom’s hot mouth to slant over his own again, taking, marking, _claiming_. Prepared to grip on Jaebeom’s sides tightly so he won’t lose hold on reality.

What he isn’t prepared for is this: Jaebeom’s palm finding its way to his own, interlocking their fingers. He’s held him down before, either by pressing his chest against Jinyoung’s back or pinning his wrists together above his head. Holding hands has never been an option, though.

When Jaebeom slumps against him at the end of his release and presses his mouth to Jinyoung’s collarbone, he can feel the curving of his lips— he’s smiling. Like a coward that he is, Jinyoung pretends to pass out from the exertion as Jaebeom slowly pulls out of him and moves away to dispose of the condom. 

The elder returns with a warm towel a few moments later and he wipes Jinyoung down in silence, kissing the inner of his thighs one last time before he tosses the towel carelessly and it makes a faint thudding sound somewhere on the other side of the room. 

He slides back next to him on the mattress and kisses Jinyoung’s temple before putting his arms around him, burying his face on Jinyoung’s neck. It isn’t long before his breathing evens out and he falls asleep. 

Jinyoung blinks back tears when he hears the soft snores coming from behind him. 

They didn’t just fuck. They made love. It’s a fact harder to acknowledge than he initially thought. 

The younger closes his eyes once more and tries not to think about the expression that says mother knows best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note about the sex scene: essentially, jinyoung realises the tenderness involved in them having intercouse that night indicates that something has developed between the two of them, more than what they both consented to per their original agreement. it's the big oh shit! moment, but it's more like oh..... shit..... yeah.
> 
> thank you for being patient with me updating this fic, i hope you liked the chapter and i'd really appreciate it if you guys let me know what you think :)
> 
> also, i'm currently on school break and if you have any prompts that you think would suit my style, drop by my curiouscat, link on twt bio @bloominsummer1 or my tumblr ask is always open @denisvileneuve! :) you can check out the fandoms i write for [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/works)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this came a week late!
> 
> tw: mentions of cheating and drug use, not by any main characters.

Jaebeom stays true to his words and takes Jinyoung on a tour around his hometown, pointing out food stalls he used to frequent as a high-school student and secluded places where he used to go to write lyrics. Jinyoung doesn’t question him as he navigates them through the town. It is his turf, after all. That’s why he thinks nothing of it when Jaebeom makes a turn to a street with steel-gated large houses on both sides.

But then Jaebeom stops in front of one of said houses. _694_ , it reads on the mailbox.

“I used to live here.”

Jinyoung gapes at him. “Seriously? This is _huge_.”

“Yeah. My dad was—” he hesitates for a moment. “Is,” he corrects, “a politician.”

When Jinyoung didn’t see a father figure anywhere in Jaebeom’s house yesterday, he decided against asking questions. If he has passed, surely there must be a shrine in the house dedicated to him, but there weren’t even any pictures of the man. Jinyoung assumes whatever story is there, he shouldn’t be the one bringing them up. 

He tries to divert the topic. “Why did you move?”

“He got it in the divorce.”

Ouch, so much for trying.

“Oh. I’m—” Jinyoung halts. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”

Jaebeom bumps his shoulder playfully against Jinyoung’s, but the smile he offers him doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “No, it’s okay. I was the one who brought it up. Anyway, we’re better off now. Way much better.”

He voice is distant, like he’s trying to convince himself more than Jinyoung. In that moment, Jinyoung sees how heavy a burden he’s been carrying around alone behind all the easy smiles and mirthful laughter he shows to others.

“You’re doing great, Jaebeom-hyung,” he places a hand on Jaebeom’s wrist. “Your mom’s really proud of you, I can tell.”

“You think so?”

Jinyoung nods confidently. “I know so, she told me in her own way.”

“Yeah,” Jaebeom hums, looking right into Jinyoung’s eyes. “Great. Thanks, Jinyoungie.”

“I’m here for you, if you ever need to talk. Always.”

He nods at that, then walks further down the road without sparing the house another glance. Jinyoung skips his steps a little to catch up with him.  


* * *

  
"Are you stealing my move?”

Jinyoung takes off his earphone and turns to Jaebeom, who somehow has managed to find his way inside Jinyoung’s dorm room without the younger letting him in. It’s either Jinyoung’s roommate opened the door for him on his way out, which was a good thirty minutes ago, or Jaebeom has somehow learned how to phase through solid material. 

"What are you talking about?"

"That," Jaebeom points to the small bouquet of roses on the side of Jinyoung’s bed. "Your mom's birthday coming soon?" 

"Oh. No."

Jinyoung shifts uncomfortably in his chair. 

"Is it your roommate’s?"

He closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to lie to Jaebeom, even if it’s easier. ”A senior gave them to me."

"A senior gave them to you,” Jaebeom echoes.

"Yes, that's what I said.”

_Please don’t ask why_ , he thinks.

Jaebeom seems to go against Jinyoung’s prayers. “Why?"

Suddenly, there are fire ants crawling underneath his skin. Up to this moment, Jaebeom never made him feel uncomfortable in any sort of way. The fact that he was easy-going from the start, when they barely even knew each other, contributed much to this. His personality was a fresh contrast to Jinyoung’s rather timid approach to new acquaintances. That seemed like such a long time ago, when Jaebeom still wore black vampire-stake type of piercing and not long silver ones like the one decorating his left ear right now.

It isn’t exactly discomfort he’s feeling, but to call it fear would give it more power than Jinyoung wants to.

"I assisted with his thesis experiment." 

Jaebeom doesn’t miss a beat. "Who?"

"The senior I told you about."

"I meant his name, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom has his back against the wall, his legs dangling over the edge of Jinyoung’s bed.

"Yah, hyung. Don't make this into a thing."

"I'm not,” Jaebeom shrugs, though the tension in his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticeable by Jinyoung. “I just wanna know his name.”

"Fine. Kim Junmyeon." 

Jaebeom whistles lowly at that. “Nice catch.” He gets up from the bed and Jinyoung flinches inwardly as he waits for Jaebeom to slam the door on his way out.

It doesn’t happen. Instead, Jaebeom leans down to kiss his cheek and walks out in a relatively normal manner, continuing to surprise Jinyoung in many ways. He wonders why, then, do his insides twist and it hurts.   


* * *

  
Another couple of weeks passed with Jinyoung trying to push his thoughts to the backseat and Jaebeom asking him to linger around longer than necessary after they have sex.

Jinyoung’s dam burst on a Monday, when Jaebeom’s eyes flutter open for the first time that morning. They know, they _both_ know that he’s awake, but Jaebeom’s arms around Jinyoung tighten instead of loosening and suddenly he’s suffocating on his own emotions. 

“Hyung,” he breathes out quietly, “I think we need to stop.”

Jaebeom rubs the sleep from his eyes and rests a hand on Jinyoung’s hip, squeezing gently. “Sorry, are you sore?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jaebeom removes his hand from its position and stays quiet for a minute. Jinyoung can hear his heart pounding in his ears and maybe also Jaebeom’s, he can’t really tell. The sound is loud— deafening, even, in the silence that fills the room.

“Jinyoung, don’t,” Jaebeom finally says, rolling to stare at the ceiling.

“What?”

“Don’t say it. You’ll ruin it.”

Jinyoung blanches at the tone Jaebeom’s using, careful and pleading. He can feel bile rising up his throat. 

“How did you know what I was going to say?” Then it hits him. “Oh, you knew,” anger blossoms inside Jinyoung steadily with the epiphany that Jaebeom had been aware of his suffering this entire time. Had ignored it for his own benefits. “ _You knew._ ”

Jaebeom stares at the ceiling even harder and Jinyoung fights the urge to grab his face and make him look at him, really _look_ at him and forces him to see all the pain he chose to let Jinyoung experience by himself manifest on his face. 

“I’m not an idiot.”

“No,” Jinyoung snarls to the side of his face, “but apparently I am.”

“We have a good thing going.”

He sits up on the bed. “And fuck my feelings, then?”

“Don’t act like you’re not enjoying this as much as I am,” Jaebeom huffs out. 

Jinyoung can’t believe what he’s hearing, but it’s obvious that Jaebeom said it, meant it, probably even thought it was the right thing to say in this situation. He saw his mouth moved and the words that came out matched the movements, so what other explanation is there?

“I was, in the beginning,” Jinyoung admits, laughing bitterly at how naive he had been when he agreed to this arrangement thinking he’d make it out alive in one piece. He’s mad, at Jaebeom, at himself, at the stupid situation, but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be honest. “That has changed.”

“I’m not good with change.”

Fuck. Right. This is the way things are going to be between them. Jaebeom has decided that. Fine. Jinyoung tried and it didn’t work. He feels like crying, but he’d never recover if he sticks around and lets Jaebeom sees him cry, so he gets up from the bed and starts gathering his things.

“That’s the understatement of the year because you’re _terrible_ with change,” he says as he bends down to grab his pants. “Still, it’s unfair that you don’t care how I feel as long as I keep it to myself.”

Jaebeom props himself up on his elbows and watches Jinyoung without retorting. As Jinyoung’s hand reaches the door handle, he hears a desperate, “Where are you going?”

Despite feeling the urge to throw himself back into Jaebeom’s arms, Jinyoung doesn’t look back.

“Where do you think? Away from you.”  


* * *

  
He knocks on Mark’s door and gets exactly who he was expecting to see. 

“Hey, Jinyoung,” Jackson grins at him, so brightly for someone who claims not to be a morning person. Jinyoung suspects the airiness around Jackson has something to do with his other hyung. “What’s— hey. Are you okay?”

That’s how he knows he looks awful. Jackson steps aside to let him into the apartment and Jinyoung does, taking off his shoes and placing them on the rack next to the door. “Hi. Where’s Mark-hyung?”

“Coffee run, Youngjae-yah came last week and broke our pot, he still hasn’t replaced it,” Jackson seems unbothered by this fact and the next thing that comes out of his mouth supports Jinyoung’s thought. “That’s not the point. I asked you a question, Jinyoungie, are you okay?”

“No,” he says honestly, “not really.”

“Come here,” Jackson tells him, opening his arms wide. “Who do you need me to kill?”

Jinyoung fights the sob that’s threatening to escape from within him and lets Jackson fix his hair and collar before moving on to pinch Jinyoung’s cheeks, probably to get some colours back on them. Then, Jackson pulls him into a hug. A warm one, since his hyung always runs hotter than the rest of their group.

There’s a sound of a door opening. “Babe! I brought doughnuts,” Mark says, stumbling inside the apartment. When he lifts his head, his eyes meet Jinyoung’s. “Oh, ‘Nyoungie?”

“Hi, hyung,” Jinyoung says from his position in Jackson’s arms. “Can I crash your romantic weekend?”

Mark doesn’t even blink at the scene of his boyfriend hugging another man, but Jinyoung figures since it’s him, it doesn’t really count.

“Of course,” he walks toward him to plant a kiss on Jinyoung’s cheek, then another on Jackson’s. “Bambam’s probably coming over any second now, asking for breakfast. Might as well cook for a large group, young men have really scary appetite.”

He disappears into the kitchen, quietly humming a tune that sounds a lot like _How Deep Is Your Love_ as he starts banging around looking for ingredients. Jackson smiles fondly at the loud noises his boyfriend is making; this time Jinyoung knows for sure it’s love he sees reflected in the brunet’s eyes. 

Once he’s sure Mark is out of earshot, Jackson turns to Jinyoung again.

“Are you going to tell him?”

Jinyoung knows better than to ask if Jackson’s going to tell on him, since that’s rather unlikely. Jackson’s protective over him, more so than Mark at times, and he’s always respected Jinyoung’s need for space whenever the situation calls for it. Jackson won’t go behind his back and spill anything to Mark even without Jinyoung asking him not to. 

“Do I have to?”

“It’s up to you,” Jackson shrugs, “though I think he would care about whatever’s making you upset. Either way, don’t keep it all pent up, okay? It’s not good for you.”

With a final affectionate ruffling of Jinyoung’s hair, Jackson leaves to follow Mark into the kitchen and help him prepare breakfast for their gang of adopted children.  


* * *

  
Jinyoung sees it coming from a mile away when Junmyeon finally asks him out the following week. Then again, Junmyeon has been all easy smiles, touches that lingered, and stolen glances when he thought Jinyoung wasn’t paying attention. He tells the older man he'll consider it and Junmyeon actually tells him there's no rush, assuring Jinyoung he's more than happy to stay friends if he prefers it.

He lets Jaebeom in on it a couple of days later.

"Don't go," Jaebeom blurts out as soon as Jinyoung finishes talking, surprising both himself and the younger. 

"Then give me a reason why, hyung. If you can't, then we're back to square one, aren't we? I told you I'm always going to be there for you, but I can't just put my entire life on hold for a promise of maybe.”

He means every word. Technically speaking he _is_ a single man and has no reason to not go, but deep down he knows his relationship with Jaebeom deserves much better than just to be defined by technicalities. Even though they didn’t end things on a good note last week, Jinyoung refuses to fall into the vicious cycle of pettiness. If at the end of the day they still reach the same conclusion as before, then Jinyoung wants to do everything right by Jaebeom, that’s how much _this_ is worth to him.

"You're right." 

Jinyoung allows himself to feel hopeful, which a mere second later he learns he shouldn’t have.

"Junmyeon is a good guy,” Jaebeom says, the air heavy with a sense of finality hanging over both their heads. “He'll treat you way better than I could ever."

“Yeah," he agrees weakly.

Jaebeom takes a deep breath before delivering his killing blow. "But if you walk out that door, I want a clean break.”

There’s no better word than _ache_ to describe what it feels like as his heart drops to his feet. He almost laughs at the absurdity of that ultimatum because _Jaebeom_ ’s the one walking out on him, giving up on what they had never tried to start in the first place, calling it quits before Jinyoung can say his piece. 

"Can't break up if we're never together to begin with,” he offers.

Head snapping up to look at him, Jaebeom wears a mask of despair and melancholy. Jinyoung looks away. 

"I'm serious, Jinyoung-ah. You go to him... and that's it. I think it's for the best." 

_What’s best is for you to admit you feel the same way as I do, you fuckwit._

“Okay,” Jinyoung agrees with him. He won’t force Jaebeom to do what he doesn’t want to. “If you think so, I believe you.”

He doesn’t expect a reply and for the first time in a long time, Jaebeom actually does what Jinyoung thinks he would. Somehow, it seems to signal the end of something between the two of them, aconclusion being drawn up out of their entangled fates. 

“Take good care of yourself, Jaebeom-hyung.”

Jinyoung calls Mark that night to tell him everything; he had barely let out two sentences on the line when Mark hung up on him and told him he’d come over in ten. Staying true to his personality, Mark makes his appearance in his favourite Winnie the Pooh pyjamas. In his hand is the biggest tub of vanilla ice cream Jinyoung has ever seen. His roommate is out for the night, thank God, and Jinyoung allows the story to flow out of him in slow waves, stopping every now and then when he needs to. 

Mark doesn’t judge him, doesn’t tell him _I told you so_ , sided with neither Jinyoung nor Jaebeom. He just offers his ear to listen and his shoulder for Jinyoung to lean on, which is exactly what he needs. After Jinyoung finishes talking, he simply tells Jinyoung how sorry he is that things didn’t work out and he hopes in the future they both can find happiness, in whatever form that may be. 

The _together or apart_ is silent, but Jinyoung understands him anyway.

He lets Mark know that he loves him, because it’s true, and Mark’s nothing but a sharp smile gleaming in the dark, soft, proud of his little brother for growing up to be a fine young man.

“Go to sleep, Jinyoungie,” Jinyoung hears Mark say as he begins to drift away. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”  


* * *

  
A rough “Get up,” is the first thing Jaebeom hears the following morning.

His head is pounding and he suspects that the empty bottle of vodka on his bed has something to do with it. He blinks once, then another time, trying to get used to the bright lighting of his room. Finally, he’s able to make out a figure standing by the windows, arms crossed over his chest.

“Jackson?”

"Get up, Jaebeom.” There’s a hand on his bicep, pulling him up. Jaebeom shrugs his best friend off, mood entirely too foul to entertain him first thing after he wakes up. “I can't even kick your ass if you look this miserable,” Jackson proceeds.

Jaebeom opens his eyes to stare at the other man. "Is everything all right?"

"What drugs are you on?” Jackson retorts.

"You know I don't do that shit.” It comes out way harsher than he wanted it to, but Jackson deserved it. He deserves it if he knows Jaebeom’s problem with using drugs and still decides to pull that card on him.

Jaebeom understands, though, that Jackson’s never been this angry with him before. Not even when he accidentally broke Jackson’s limited edition Super Saiyan action figure. It speaks volume of how monumentally Jaebeom had fucked this whole thing up with Jinyoung.

"Right. So only alcohol and avoidance as coping mechanisms, then?" 

"You said you couldn't kick my ass,” he groans, waving his hand around in a dismissive motion.

Why couldn’t Jackson wait until midday to scold him?

"Jaebeom, you were happy,” Jackson states, like he knows it for a fact. The inside of Jaebeom’s mouth turns sour. “Weren’t you? Don't lie to me." 

“Of course I was,” he snaps.

He wasn’t aware of the effect Jinyoung had on him until everything hit him at light speed, straight on the face. The night they returned from visiting his mother, he took some time to make a mental list of things. First and foremost: Jinyoung mildly disliked the fact that he smoked, so he quit cold turkey after years of not being able to cut his smoking down. He even got rid of his lucky lighter, and he might be missing it if he’s not busy missing Jinyoung more. 

He stopped sleeping around longer before other people started to notice and talk about it. Some people were bothersome before, but he always liked to keep them around just in case. The most annoying ones are usually also the horniest— it was easier for him to navigate lust than love. After Jinyoung asked him about Defsoul, though, he blocked the first person who called him for a booty call. The rest followed. It was scary how natural it felt at the time and Jaebeom didn’t even think of it as _change_. 

If he had to describe how he had reacted when Jinyoung told him he was sick using one word, it would be _comical_. He ran across campus to buy some soup, then ran all the way back to Jinyoung’s dorm and had to sit on the bench outside for two minutes to catch his breath. Then Namjoon called him to talk about their collaboration and Jaebeom told him he was _busy_. Was he fucking crazy or what? He had money riding on that project. He knew, though, even if he had left he wouldn’t have been useful at the meeting. He’d just worry about Jinyoung the entire time.

So he stuck around and made sure to replace the cold towel on Jinyoung’s forehead every half hour until his fever broke.

He doesn’t fucking know why it’s so hard to just stay when Jinyoung asked him to. He can’t put it into words and he’s a damn lyricist, for God’s sake. 

“Don’t snap at me.” Jackson’s voice brings him back to the present.

“Then stop nagging.”

Jackson does this thing where he’d cluck his tongue as he disagrees with someone, then he’d start tapping his feet on the floor and it’s especially annoying this morning.

“If you get your head out of your ass and actually deal with your problems like a functioning human being, I wouldn’t have to.”

Seeing how Jackson aims for the jugular, Jaebeom fights him back just as dirty, “You didn’t talk to Mark for months before you got your shit together, you’re in no position to lecture me.”

“I’m not lecturing you,” Jackson replies after a beat, considerably softer than he was just moments ago. “I want you to be happy.”

“Don’t you want Jinyoung to be happy?”

_He’s better off without me._

“What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

“Then you should tell him to forget about me. I can’t make him happy.”

_He deserves better._

“Jaebeom-ah,” Jackson says tiredly. “You already did.”  


* * *

  
Jaebeom’s heart is beating fast and it’s somehow relocated from the inside of his ribs all the way down to his stomach. He just knocked on the dorm door twice, not knowing whether he’ll see who he wants to see on the other side. 48 hours, that’s how long he’s gone without seeing Jinyoung or getting a single text or call from him. A duration entirely too long, if you ask him.

It’s not that he knows what he’s doing here, or if Jinyoung would even want to talk to him, but he can’t go on like this anymore. Food tastes bland, life is colourless, music no longer has any rehabilitating effect on his psyche. 

The door swings open to reveal Jinyoung, his hair slightly messed up and it reminds Jaebeom of how he looks like first thing in the morning after a good night’s sleep. His eyes widen, surprised at Jaebeom’s impromptu appearance at his place. Jaebeom doesn’t blame him, he’s surprised, too. They stare at each other for a moment before Jinyoung steps aside to let him in.

He takes the chair while Jinyoung settles back into his bed, a pillow held tight to his body as he watches Jaebeom with his sharp eyes. Another five minutes must have passed before Jaebeom finds the courage and the words to begin. Jinyoung does nothing to rush him the entire time and damn, Jaebeom is so hopelessly in love with him for that.

“I have commitment issues.”

Jinyoung’s eyes are shining instantly and fuck— Jaebeom _can not_ handle him crying on his account. 

He averts his eyes downward to study the intricate knot of his shoelaces and continued, “My father… used to tell my mother he loved her very much. I believed him. She believed him. Until one day I came home early from school because my stomach was hurting and I found his secretary bent over _our_ kitchen table, him pounding her well into next Tuesday.”

A small gasp fills the air and the bed rustles as Jinyoung shifts his weight on it, moving forward until his feet touch the floor. He’s decreasing the distance between the two of them, slowly, giving Jaebeom enough warning to stop him if he wants to.

“He still insisted that he loved my mother. And I think she still believed him for some time. Then I overheard him, talking on the phone with his campaign manager. Shit about keeping up appearances and family values. _I finally got it._ We were just props to him.” 

Shuddering, Jaebeom catches his breath. It feels good to say these things out loud, to finally share them with someone whom he knows won’t judge him for whatever reason, to allow himself to be vulnerable and yet still feel safe at the same time. He never needed to tell Jackson because he was there to live through it with him, but to let another person in on it— only Jinyoung has been able to give him the courage.

“God, how I wish that was the end. But then I had to find him snorting some white powder off of the oak table in his study, laughing with his colleagues when I walked in on them with a horrified expression on my face. It just… fucked me up.”

Jinyoung’s kneeling in front of him now, hands rubbing soothing circles onto his thighs.

“Uh, I,” he looks into Jinyoung’s big brown eyes, “thought it’s better not to tie yourself down to an individual because it gets complicated when your feelings change, which— they will. You said it yourself, the way you felt in the beginning and the way you feel now, they’re different. Really, everything is ephemeral if you think about it.”

There’s a hand cupping his face and it’s so familiar that Jaebeom can’t help but lean into the touch.

“I understand,” Jinyoung tells him without hesitation.

The absence of pity in his expression tells Jaebeom everything he needs to know. Jinyoung’s unlike the people in his mother’s old clique, the ones who whispered underneath their breath about how unfortunate things were for him and his mom, how ugly the marriage must have been that she was just cast aside after it ended. _And_ _what’s wrong with the son? There must be something if he didn’t want anything to do with him, either._ Jaebeom developed a thick skin over the years, he’d much rather take the insults than let his mother learn one word of it, but it never once stopped hurting. 

Rather than superficial sympathy, Jinyoung’s features burn with an unbridled rage against the injustices his old man had brought upon Jaebeom’s life. 

He doesn’t deserve Jinyoung. _The world_ doesn’t deserve Park Jinyoung.

“No, you don’t,” Jaebeom answers him.

Jinyoung physically flinches away as if the words had slapped him, but Jaebeom is quick to erase his doubts. “I thought that way before because I didn’t know what love was.” 

A beat. Jinyoung nods and resumes thumbing the apple of Jaebeom’s cheek.

“But then I got to know you. And gradually I began to understand the selfish reasons behind wanting someone all for yourself. Fucking cheesy, I know.”

He moves his hand to cover Jinyoung’s own, the one resting on his face. “I… I just don’t think I’d recover if you ever hurt me,” he admits quietly. “So I didn’t allow you any chances. It’s safer. For me. For what little is left of my soul.”

Jinyoung takes his hand back and Jaebeom mourns the loss of his warmth.

“What about me?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t you think I’m scared, too? The feelings you evoked in me are downright _terrifying_. You can _ruin_ me, but I let you in my bed anyway, and then in my heart.” 

The younger man bites his lips in uncertainty before he speaks again, “Honestly, I can’t promise we won’t ever hurt each other. I can only promise that when I say I want to be with you and take care of you, I mean it. I mean it in ways your father never did when he told your mother.”

Jaebeom believes him. He _does_. 

“If that’s not enough for you, that’s okay, too. Because I,” Jinyoung pauses, closing his eyes, “ _I love you_ , whether we’re together or not.”

He knows he should say it back, he feels it, too, there’s no questioning that anymore. But Jinyoung opens his eyes again and he is so _beautiful_ and things don’t usually end up that way after Jaebeom’s finish with them. With his brain warning him that this is the wrong thing to do, Jaebeom goes against his instinct and rises from his seat, giving Jinyoung one last look of despair before he walks out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one more chapter until we're through with this journey, leave a comment to let me know how this chapter makes you feel <3
> 
> find me on twt [@bloominsummer1](https://twitter.com/bloominsummer1)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, i am so sorry it took me some time to update, school and work got in the way of most things. i was stuck on the ending for awhile, too. 
> 
> but here it is, the final piece of the puzzle. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do <3

The rest of the day went like a blur, he tried to bury himself in work to avoid thinking about Jinyoung— to no avail. He almost gave up and had the urge to bang his fists against his portable keyboard, eventually settled with shaking it violently. That’s when he saw it, something falling to the floor from underneath the whammy bar. Jaebeom bends to pick it up, a post-it note.

_Fighting hyung!!! There’s a snickers bar in the bottom drawer of your desk, please have it if you haven’t eaten. — PJY._

Jaebeom blinked multiple times and yet the note didn’t disappear. He tripped over himself _twice_ while trying to reach his desk and sure enough, as soon as he pulled out the bottom drawer, he found the aforementioned snack. Jinyoung knew he had an unhealthy affinity to sweet snacks, Jinyoung knew he’d mess with his instruments whenever he gets frustrated, Jinyoung knew he’d forget to eat when he’s immersed in his work.

Jinyoung knew him and loved him anyway.

He had never run so fast in his entire life, the time when he went to buy Jinyoung soup doesn’t even come close to this. He made it in record time, too, a twenty-minutes leisure walk turned into a six-minute sprint. 

His hand is hovering in the air, about to knock on the door, when it swings open.

“Oh, hey, Jaebeom.”

The first thing that comes into Jaebeom’s mind is, _this can’t be his roommate._

“Is. Um. Jinyoung in?”

Junmyeon smiles at him and replies, “Yeah, he’s asleep though.” 

Jaebeom feels like he’d been punched in the guts and he has to fight the urge to return the favour. “A- ah,” he stutters, “Okay.” 

The older man is shorter than him, yet somehow Jaebeom is looking _up_ at him and he’s never felt this devastated before. Junmyeon patiently waits for his reply and shows no intention of moving from his spot anytime soon, guarding the entrance to Jinyoung’s room with his life. 

“I guess I’ll swing by in the morning,” Jaebeom says weakly.

He hums in agreement and it’s so damn condescending Jaebeom considers punching him anyway. “You need a lift? I drove here.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine. I need the walk, anyway.”

“Cool,” that easy smile returns to his face again, “I’ll see you around?”

_You definitely won’t_ , Jaebeom thinks bitterly.

* * *

 

Jinyoung’s heart shattered into tiny pieces when Jaebeom left after his confession, but he also thought to himself that he would eventually be okay not hearing Jaebeom’s reciprocation. He knows the truth, regardless or not the feeling was put into words. If Jaebeom didn’t love him back, it would have hurt less than this.

The dust eventually settled and he picked himself up with the help of his friends. Yugyeom even went as far as dropping any annoying behaviour around Jinyoung in order to give his hyung some rest. Jinyoung appreciated it the first two weeks until he realised that his friends had been walking on eggshells around him. He didn’t want that, so he told them they could return to being their normal selves. Bambam cheered and gave him a bear hug, as expected. Yugyeom, on the other hand, actually shed a tear and told Jinyoung he loved him for the first time.

Jinyoung pretended to be indifferent, but hugged Yugyeom for a good minute anyway.

After that, things return to equilibrium for him. Mark makes sure he eats, Jackson makes sure he laughs, Bambam makes sure he never runs out of memes and Youngjae makes sure he always has someone who’ll listen to him at dumb hours into the night. He’s pretty sure they talked about the task delegation amongst themselves and no one bothered to give Yugyeom anything, though the youngest comes over every so often and takes his roommate’s empty bed.

In the midst of all of this, he hopes that they give Jaebeom the same treatment, too, not that he dare asks.

“Okay, I can’t stand it anymore,” Jackson blurts, bits of muffin flying into the air and Jinyoung has to dodge them. “I’m sorry Mark, I love you. I really do. But I have to ask Jinyoung the thing you told me not to. I’m sorry. Really. Please don’t stop having sex with me.” He turns to Jinyoung, a serious look on his face. “Did you listen to it?”

“Listen to what? You haven’t spoken in thirty minutes,” Jinyoung points out. It was painfully obvious that they were holding back information from him, but he thought it was about them finally moving in together. To be honest, he feels a little guilty that the happy couple felt the need to tone down their domesticity around him.

“Either one of you,” he prompts again when Jackson doesn’t continue.

The brown-haired man takes a sip of his iced Americano to help him swallow his muffin. “The song, Jinyoung.”

“What song?”

Mark’s hand shoots up to Jackson’s arm. “Jackson.”

“What song?” Jinyoung repeats, staring at Mark. “Hyung,” his pleads.

His best friend watches him for a moment before sighing in defeat. He pulls out his phone and types slowly, so slowly Jinyoung almost screams at him to just end his suffering already, then he hands it to him.

Forever Love — _Defsoul_.

Jaebeom’s song?

Jinyoung squints his eyes at the details of the release. Jaebeom’s _new_ song. Right, great. At least one of them found inspiration in all of this and is making a whole lot of money from their mess of a journey. He shouldn’t be surprised that Jaebeom has his shit together, should he? It might just hurt a little knowing that their non-breakup didn’t affect Jaebeom as much as it did him.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Jinyoung hits the play button.

A wave of relief washes over Jinyoung when he hears the light voice that unmistakably belongs to Jaebeom. He’s long been deprived of it in its many forms. No longer has Jaebeom’s boisterous laughter filled his days. No longer has he been picking up the phone to the rough, gravelly voice accompanied by some static as Jaebeom dials his number immediately after he wakes up from his afternoon nap. No longer does he fall apart willingly underneath the man while listening to the soft reassurances of how good he makes Jaebeom feel. This… this is the closest he’s been to him since that night. 

Admittedly it takes him a while to focus on the words rather than the sound itself, but when he finally does, everything falls into place.

_First of all, I want you to know_

_You shouldn’t get hurt anymore_

He doesn’t think he can feel pain worse the one they inflicted on each other.

_I may not be by your side but remember that_

_I’m forever in your heart_

Cocky bastard for thinking he’d make such an impact. Jinyoung can’t even fight it because he knows it’s true.

_It might be difficult to say now that we’re parting ways_

_I have to say goodbye_

Why? Why does this have to be so difficult? He has been asking himself that question over and over again in the nights when he tossed and turned but was never able to let sleep take him under.

_The last thing I want you to know_

_Is you made me happy through it all_

_Because like a gift from God,_

_I was able to be by your side_

Wetness trickles down his cheek steadily as the words registers  _really_ register with him. This isn’t just a love song, it’s a love letter dedicated to Jinyoung, conveying all the things Jaebeom had been feeling but has never told him to his face. The name underneath the credit might be Defsoul, but this was all Jaebeom.

_I’ll miss you cause I love you so_

_Even though this is goodbye, I’m not far away_

_I’m forever in your heart_

Mark’s fingers dab away at his tears and Jinyoung looks up to find Jackson doing the same to the older man. Mark has always been a sympathetic crier towards everyone, but Jackson is a particularly sympathetic crier towards his boyfriend, so this paints a rather ridiculous picture. Three grown men in their twenties huddled over a phone, bawling their eyes out after listening to a love ballad. 

Jackson sniffs and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. “This one is for the door to his room,” he tells Jinyoung, handing them over. “He locks it a lot now because I kept on harassing him.”

* * *

“Jacks, I told you not to—” Jaebeom turns around when he hears the lock of his door being turned against his wishes for the sixth time this week. It’s only _Tuesday._ He prepares himself to get an earful of Jackson, again, trying to get him to open up, _again_ , and Jaebeom would just have to sit there blankly because he can’t bring himself to voice the thought that Jinyoung’s moved on so quickly, so _easily_.

Jinyoung, who’s standing at his doorway, instead of Jackson. “You’re not Jackson,” he acknowledges dumbly.

“No, but you are an _asshole_.”

Jaebeom winces. “I know.”

“You didn’t have the guts to tell me what you need to tell me, so you write it in a song and put it out there for the whole world to hear, _but me_?” The younger man is angry, the heaving of his chest a clear indication of that. Jaebeom tries hard to focus on his words, but Jinyoung is here, in his space, and he’s not dreaming this time. He looks him up and down— “Have you completely lost it?” Jinyoung snaps again, his tone demanding Jaebeom’s attention.

“I came back,” Jaebeom tells him, because it’s true.

“What?”

“I came back, that night, but I bumped into Junmyeon in the hallway,” he rubs the back of his neck. It hurts more than he thinks, the wound has yet to close, probably because he hasn’t been treating it. “He said you were sleeping and when I checked the time, it was a little after midnight. I’m… I knew what that meant. So, I left.”

Jinyoung fists his right hand and strides across the room to hit Jaebeom on the shoulder as hard as he could. The punch stings, though definitely not as much as seeing tears build up in the younger’s eyes. “Who gave you the right to come to that conclusion by yourself?! I told you I love you, hyung, and I meant it. So obviously, I didn’t _sleep_ with Junmyeon-hyung, he bored me to death with his data presentation that I fell asleep!”

“Data presenta—”

He’s promptly cut off. “Yeah, if you ever once listened to me you would know that I’m only helping him with his thesis.”

“You were dating him.”

“I went on _one date_. I decided I wanted to be friends because I have feelings for someone else and he was fine with that.”

“What are you saying?”

“You should hold my hand,” Jinyoung said firmly, determination evident in his eyes.

“What—”

“You said when I fall, you’ll be the first one to hold my hand,” Jinyoung echoes the lyrics Jaebeom’s written about _him_ back to him. “I’m falling, Jaebeom-hyung. I’m falling for you, deeper, if I haven’t already reached the bottom of the trench. Now, are you going to make good on your words or not?”

Jinyoung presents it as a challenge, one he knows Jaebeom can’t back down from. _I love you_ , Jaebeom thinks. _I’m so fucking in love with you_. He doesn’t waste another second before he stands up from his seat and crowds Jinyoung against the desk, lips coaxing Jinyoung’s own to open beneath them.

“You’re short,” Jaebeom complains when they resurface for air. “My neck hurts when I have to bend down and kiss you.”

“Should I knee you in the groin, then?” Jinyoung snorts. “You’ll probably keel over until our faces are of the same height.”

“Or, alternatively, I can just lift you up,” Jaebeom does.

Jinyoung wraps his legs around Jaebeom’s waist and allows himself to be carried to the bed. 

* * *

Jackson picks up the newspaper from the kitchen counter and waves it at Mark. “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you were looking for a new place,” he studies the red circles drawn on some of the advertisements. Two bedrooms apartments seem to be a common theme in all of them. “Has Jinyoung finally decided to ditch dorm life?”

Mark makes his way toward him and loops his arm around Jackson’s middle, hugging him from the back.

“Which one do you think is nice?” he asks, his voice right next to Jackson’s ear.

“Ah, this one is close to my office!” Jackson exclaims, a little excitedly. “If you live there and I get tired after work, I can sleep over at your place, maybe once or twice during the week.”

He can feel Mark rolling his eyes without having to see them. Sure, his previous statement is a little hypocritical since he’s been sleeping over at Mark’s almost five days a week lately. He always attributes it to the fact that he prefers to avoid bumping into Jaebeom and Jinyoung in their honeymoon phase, but they both know it’s just an excuse to spend more time with Mark.

“How about seven days a week?”

“Mark, I know you love me but at that point, it’s called living together,” Jackson laughs, then drops the newspaper to the floor. “Wait, are you asking me to move in?”

“Technically, we’d be renting out a new place so it’s not—” Jackson turns around in his arms and pulls Mark in to kiss him. The drawer knob behind him digs into his spine sharply, the metal cold even with the fabric of his sweatshirt between it and his skin. He doesn’t mind, he simply pulls Mark even closer and parts his mouth to let him in. “Is that a yes?” Mark questions when they part, foreheads resting together.

“Like,” Jackson gives his boyfriend a peck, “a thousand times,” another one, “hell yeah. I can’t wait to fight over whose turn it is to do the dishes and getting our clothes mixed up!”

“We already do that,” Mark points out.

Jackson gasps in faux-offence. “Are you saying we’re like a boring old married couple? I have never been more hurt.”

* * *

They’re at a club, celebrating the end of Jaebeom’s two-weeks long battle with exams. At least for now, that’s the public reason they share with their group of friends. The more private one: Jaebeom’s first session with his therapist went very well. Those were his own words, too.

When Jinyoung told him he’s proud of him for getting the help he needs, Jaebeom beamed so brightly the sun might just have to look for another job to do.

The bartender slips him another note when she slides their drinks over the counter and Jinyoung reminisces the events of that one crucial night almost a year ago. He offers it to Jaebeom wordlessly, who quirks his eyebrows at him. He takes a quick glance of the paper Jinyoung’s holding before slanting his mouth over Jinyoung’s, licking his way inside.

“Why are you trying to rile me up?”

Jinyoung leans away from him. “I didn’t do anything, though?”

Jaebeom gives him an exasperated look and rips the note away from Jinyoung’s hand, holding it up in front of his face.

_Jinyoung-ssi, give me a call when you’re bored._ it says, accompanied by a phone number and salmon-coloured kiss mark below it. 

He can’t help but laugh at the irony. He didn’t think to check what it actually says because no one in their right mind would attempt to flirt with him when he’s standing right next to Jaebeom, who oozes sex appeal like a deity. The silver necklace he’s wearing is an enhancement to his usual look, not that Jinyoung’s opinion is entirely objective. The fact that said necklace holds a palm tree pendant with JY engraved on it close to Jaebeom’s heart plays a big part in passing his judgment.

Jinyoung loops his arms around Jaebeom’s neck, toying the clasp of the necklace with his fingers. “Jealous?”

The music’s blasting through the air, but there’s no mistaking the growl from the back of Jaebeom’s throat at his question. 

“You’re mine,” Jaebeom claims hotly in his ear. Then, a contrasting soft murmur, “I love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s heard him say it; Jaebeom vocalises it plenty once he gets over the initial fear that Jinyoung might use it against him. It’s not the first time he’s heard him say it, but still, every time feels like the first time. Jinyoung’s heart skips a beat and his knees buckle underneath him.

Jinyoung understands him a little better now, is able to tell that behind the macho bravado he’s putting up, there’s a hint of vulnerability in Jaebeom’s statements. It’s a concealed question for Jinyoung, a quiet prayer for confirmation. He hopes for the day when Jaebeom will know how he feels without a doubt, but until then, he’ll do whatever it takes to get them there.

“I’m yours, jagi,” he gives in to Jaebeom, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “No one else’s but yours.”

A shudder passes through Jaebeom’s body and he decides to share the pleasure by nibbling lightly at Jinyoung’s outer earlobe. 

“Stop that.”

Being as whipped for Jinyoung as he is, Jaebeom obeys the order and moves his mouth to kiss Jinyoung’s temple instead. The younger man finds literal _stars_ in his eyes when he pulls back looks at him. He doesn’t have to check to know that his expression matches Jaebeom’s.

“Oi, quit giving heart eyes at each other and come dance!” Mark shrieks somewhere from the sea of people wriggling their bodies ungracefully.

Jaebeom laughs at that without taking his eyes off Jinyoung. Happiness surges through the younger man as he watches Jaebeom’s eyes turn into crescents and the corners of his mouth curve upward in a grin. He takes a couple of steps toward the dance floor and extends a hand out to Jinyoung.

Jinyoung takes it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's a wrap! let me know what you think, scream at me if you hate it, I'll take all the constructive criticisms.
> 
> find me on twitter [@_bloominsummer](https://twitter.com/_bloominsummer)

**Author's Note:**

> exciting news: i'm seeing got7 in august!!!!! djfhglkh idk if i'll be able to make it out of the experience alive, but we'll see.
> 
> let me know what you guys think by leaving comments or come scream with me on [tumblr](https://denisvileneuve.tumblr.com). <3


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